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FROM   THE  LIBRARY  OF 
REV.   LOUIS    FITZGERALD    BENSON,  D,  D. 

BEQUEATHED   BY   HIM   TO 

THE   LIBRARY   OF 

PRINCETON  THEOLOGICAL  SEMINARY 


IIKAYKNLY    I 


roB 


HEAVY   II  HARTS. 


C<)M  I'll. HI)   FOB 

Till:  PRESBYTERIAH  BOARD  OF   PUBLICATION. 


r  RILA D I LPHIA: 

BO  \i:d  OF  PUBLICA1 


Entered  according  to  the  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1864,  by 

THE    TRUSTEES    OF    THE 

PRESBYTERIAN  BOARD  OF  PUBLICATION, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District 
of  Pennsylvania. 

STEREOTYPED  BY  WESTCOTT  &  THOMSON. 


A  i        A   J  '  l       i     ■ 


Z- 


I  N  D  E  X 


PA*1 

After  our  child's  untroubled  breath fames  Knanll  J. 

A  little  wor»l  in  kindness  spoken Anonymous. 

!  ah   me!  that  word  alone Sbpfaenfa. 

Alone  I  walked  the  doom  strand Hmmmmk  Ft<iyg  Oomld. 

As  stars  upon  the  tranquil  sea Gmrlo*  /,.  Stumri, 

A  strange  power  hath  the  human   heart. ...Mrs.  Martha  Caafttld. 

Bear  the  burden  of  the                    Tkowtas  Mackellar.  -11 

.  ...  InowjnBON*. 

,;.ent.  life  il  very  brief Lnoe|rmon*.  lid 

i  the  smiling  and  the  weeping Horaiina  Bonar.  162 

Be  not  harsh  and  unforgiving                    inomymom*.  19 

But  to  be  still,  oh  but  to  cease  awhile Fannm   A' 

Calm  me,  tny  God,  and  m / 

Cease   th«>u  from  man.  oh  what   to  thee-. .  Ill 

Christian,  walk  carefully,  danger  is  near. 

:  of  sorrow,  lone,  forsaken 

Come,  my  soul,  thou  mftl  be  waking 

.  when  first   I  -mr*.    ]  I 'J  - 

C«»unt  each  affliction,  wl 
Cling  I 

Dear  little  child,  with  r 

17 


4  INDEX. 

PAGE 

Each  hour  is  like  an  angel  that  with  wings.... John  G.  Whittier.  209  * 
Early  my  spirit  turned James  W.  Alexander.     40 

Faint  not  beneath  thy  burden,  though  it  seem ".Anonymous.  206 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life Mrs.   Waring.  112    * 

For  ever  the  sun  is  pouring  his  gold Anonymous.    186 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God...»V..l. , From  the  German.     37     "• 

For  what  shall  I  praise  Thee,  my  God  and  my  King... Mrs.  Fry.  108 
Fighting  the  battle  of  life Anonymous.     bG 

Go  labour  on  !  spend  and  be  spent  ! Horatius   Bonar.     12 

"  Go  forth,"  said  the  heavenly  Father Mrs.  S.  W.  Jewett.  211 


J 


Half  a  wreck  by  tempest  driven Anonymous.  160 

Here,  in  thy  presence,  Lord,  I  stand Horatius  Bonar.  17 

How  blessed  from  the  bonds  of  sin Spitta  109 

Heleadethme!   Oh,  blessed  thought Anoirymonf.  123 

He  sendeth  sun,  He  sendeth  shower Mrs.  Sarah  F.  Adams.  71    * 

Here  in  the  body  pent James  Montgomery.  139    »  ' 

How  few,  who,  from  their  youthful  day Anonymous.  203 

How  many  forms  it  shows  to  us Anonymous,  55 

Hush,  idle  words  and  thoughts  of  ill Anonymous.  14 

Hues  of  the  rich  unfolding  morn John  Keble.  31    v    • 

I  am  not  afraid  of  dying Anonymous.  171 

I  am  old  and  blind Elizabeth  Lloyd.  191 

I  ask  not  human  greatness Mrs.  Mary  B.  Crocker.  1  19 

I  come  to  Thee,  to-night Hymns  of  the  Ages.  17.9. 

I  ask  not  now  for  gold  to  gild John  G.   Whittier.  100    * 

I  am  weary  of  straying,  oh  fain  would  I  rest Anonymous.  71 

I'm  bound  to  the  house  of  my  Father Hannah  Flagg  Gould.  143 

I  am  footsore  and  very  weary Adelaide  Anne  Proctor.  141    "^   u 

I  cry  for  peace,  0  God Anonymous.  105 

If  grief  in  heaven  might  find  a  place  Anonymous.  24 


.^m^jf!Kn 


INB1 

I  ha\  "£th  with  dreaming 

I  know  qo(  t ho  way  I  am  go)  U  >  t,    i- I 

■  ire  .-ill  useless  thinking 

In  the  n:ur.  

in  maiden  bloom mm  I  16 

[nontfmoHM.  It*. 7 

-  a  time  for  moonlight  dreams  1 John  KebU,  19    — ** 

i  the  way,  my  Father?  Tis  my  child Iwoir 

Fear  it  not,  for  He tnonymont. 

I   thank  Thee,  Father,  that  I  live \noin/m»u*.      10 

i'hine  to  give  me,  and  I  craved ifumymon§,     VI 

It  is  not  much  the  world  can  give inongwunu.     52 

-  ■  time  of  sadnoss,  and  my  heart Anonymom** 

I  will  never,  never,  leave  Thee Anongmom*  166 

I  worship  Thee,  sweet  will  of  <Jod Frederick  Faber,     73   —  v   i— 

Just  as  a  mother,  with  sweet  pious  face inonymom,     99 

Let  me  not  die  before  I've  done  for  Thee Anenymom.  35 

Let  us  draw  their  mantles  o'er  us 

Life  is  onward  !    use  it 28 

Live  to  do  good,  but  not  with  thought hnnc.  16 

Look  and  li.-ten,  look  11                                                            .    \n<>nijmou*.  121 

ilonc  with  Thee  

i  Bald .   1-1  ■•  ▼ 

g  word,  and  kindly  d<<  '.  .    I-11 

J     l^ 

Make  use  of  me,  ■  SO         *  , 

MuJt  I  my  65  ""    , 

My  Dove  !  Zr 

My  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march.  .  89 

Father,  wh.  116 

My  God,  is  | 


6  INDEX. 


TAGE 


No  shadows  yonder Boratius  Bonar.  83     v  ^ 

No  sickness  there Anonymous.  170 

Not  here,  not  here,  not  where  the  sparkling...  Congregationalism  199 

Now  the  crucible  is  breaking Harttman.  90 

Nothing  but  leave^V^l.  te.QiAkte&X&X<.  Christian  Inquirer.  158 

Oh  be  ye  thankful  while  ye  breathe Anonymous.  148 

0  dearest  Lord,  I  cannot  pray Frederick  Faber.     84  — 

0  fainting  soul,  arise  and  sing John  Keble.  150  _   l 

Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God Elizabeth  Barrett  Browning.  209         i 

Oh  !  for  the  happy  days  gone  by Frederick  Faber.     75 

Oh  God  of  glory  !  Thou  hast  treasured  up Anonymous.     54 

Oh  strew  on  life's  wild  path  a  flower Anonymous.     49 

Oh!  lead  me  in  Thy  perfect  way Anonymous.  165 

Oh  !  how  I  fear  Thee,  living  God Frederick  Faber.   188   —    ' 

Oh  !  it  is  hard  to  work  for  God Frederick  Faber.     67         I 

Oh!  never  till  the  clouds  of  time James  Montgomery.  207    —  ^ 

Oh  !  let  the  soul  its  slumbers  break Spanish  Poem.  144_ 

Oh  !  leave  a  smile  of  kindness ,..  Anonymous.     52 

One  by  one,  the  sands  are  flowing Adelaide  Anne  Proctor.     48 

One  hour  with  Thee,  my  God,  when  daylight Anonymous.   133 

One  little  word,  if  softly  spoken Julian  Cramer.     42 

One  sweetly  solemn  thought C\.TA^^U4..  Carey.     81 

Only  waiting  till  the  shadows Anonymous.   157 

Oh  !  to  be  ready Anonymous.  151- 

Our  beloved  have  departed From  the  German  of  Lange.  175     "  '--. ' 

Pain's  furnace  heat  within  me  quivers Sturm.  130 

Purer  yet,  and  purer"; Anonymous.  164^ 

Ready  now  to  spread  my  pinions Anonymous.  155 

Shall  this  life  of  mine  be  wasted Horatius  Bonar.     39 

Speak  gently  to  the  little  child Maria  Roseau.     66 

Speechless  Sorrow  sat  with  me Harriet  McEwen  Kimball.   125 


I  N  I  I  !  7 

PAO« 

■  hate'er  botide Wartfm  Fmrqiil  96    ■ 

Sweet  brooklet,  ever  gliding '.  22    ■ 

Tarry  with  me.  0  my  Saviour \ymmue.  127     — 

That  clime  is  DOt  like  this  dull  oliflM  of  ours.  ...JlbrafUM  Bomar.  101      ** 

mid  ground ffadanak,  59 

glory  walks  His  ronndi BUhop  ffeber,  25              v 

The  heavier  the  cross,  the  nearer  heaven. ...'/<  rman  of  SekmoUh  131 

The  sympathy  of  Jeraj Varyarel  Junk-in.  20 

Throw  away  Thy  rod lhrlnrt.  106         ^ 

Then,  oh  have  pity,  Father,  on  thy  child mond,  1  l"> 

There  is  a  little  mystic  clock Pram  the  Omrmmm,  34 

The  night  is  mother  of  the  day 51 

There  is  an  eye  that  ne\                     ^F?&4Jtmi*flMip&£my.  115 

There  ii  no  pain  that  lean  bear \mmynwu8.  205 

There  was  an  idle  lyre Ifargarrt  Junkin,  101 

This  world,  0  (iod,  like  that  nbore IfodcwM  (iuyon.  115    -»      k* 

They  err,  who  measure  life  by  years Lofty  Allen.  33 

Thou  knowest  my  weakness.  Lord,  my  every L«OI» 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  0  Lord    Horatim*  Bmmr,  129 

Time  and  Patience,  these  are  Anonj 

Time  is  flying,  flying 

'Tis  a  little  thing Tnlfowrd* 

'Tis  not  for  us  to  trifle!  Life  is  brief Horatim  Bonmr.  9 

'Tii  firt?t  the  true,  and  then  the  beautiful Horai  l.VJ 

the  thing  we  seem //  183 

True  faith,  producing  1  ml  man Lfto 

Till  He  come,  oh  let  the  irot  1S9 

many  are  the  blessings 56 

Voyager  on  life' •  113 

Wait,  fur  the  day  is  breaking hmut,  205 


8  INDEX. 


PAGE 


We  all  might  do  good Anonymous.  53 

Weep  not  for  those  whose  race  is  run Anonymous.  176 

We  speak  of  the  realms  of  the  blest. .' Anonymous.  177 

We  walked  by  the  side  of  the  tranquil  stream Caroline  Fry.  61 

Whatever  passes  as  a  cloud  between..... Anonymous.  59 

What  if  the  little  rain  should  say George  W.  Cutter.  15 

What  have  I  yet  to  do Anonymous.  184 

What  no  human  eye  hath  seen From  the  German  of  Lange.  181    •*■  ^ 

What  superscription,  oh  my  soul Anonymous.  118 

Where  the  faded  flower  shall  fresheD Horatius  Bonar.  173 

Who  blesses  others  in  his  daily  deeds Anonymous.  53 

Without  haste  and  without  rest German  of  Goethe.  51 

Words  are  lighter  than  the  cloud  foam Household  Words.  201 

Wouldst  thou  win  the  crime-stained  wanderer Anonymoxis.  58 

We  wreathed  about  our  darling's  head Mrs.  Lowell,  214 

Yes,  our  griefs  will  soon  be  over...  Theological  Student  of  Geneva.  154 

Yes,  pray  for  those  thou  lovest Mrs.  Addy.  70 

Yet,  will  I  trust,  in  all  my  fears Martin  F.  Tapper.  97   ■« 


HEAVENLY   HYMNS. 


OUR  ONE  LIFE. 


'Tis  not  for  us  to  trifle  !     Life  is  brief, 

And  sin  is  here. 
Our  age  is  but  the  falling  of  a  leaf, 

A  dropping  tear. 
We  have  no  time  to  sport  away  the  hours, 
All  must  be  earnest  in  a  world  like  ours. 

Not  many  lives,  but  only  one  have  we — 

One,  only  one  ; — 
How  sacred  should  that  one  life  ever  be — 

That  narrow  span  ! 
Day  after  day,  filled  up  with  blessed  toil ; 
Hour  after  hour,  still  bringing  in  new  spoil. 

o  life  below — how  brief,  and  poor,  and  Bad; 
One  heavy  sigh. 

0  life  above — how  long,  how  fail',  and  glad  : 

And  endless  joy. 

Soon  we'll  be  done  with  daily  dying  here  : 

Then  will  begin  the  living  in  yon  sphei 

Hobatiui  Bovab. 
9 


10  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


'TIS  GOOD  TO  LIVE. 

I  thank  thee,  Father,  that  I  live  ! 
I  thank  for  these  gifts  of  thine, — 
For  bending  skies  of  heavenly  blue, 

And  stars  divine  ! 

For  this  green  earth,  where  wild,  sweet  airs, 
Like  forest  spirits,  joyous  play : 
For  winding  stream,  and  trees,  and  flowers, 
Beside  its  way. 

But  more  I  thank  thee  for  true  hearts, 
That  bear  sweet  gifts  of  love  to  me, 
Whom  mine  enfolds,  and  feels  that  this 
Is  love  of  thee. 

Warm  from  their  spirits,  spreads  around 
An  atmosphere,  serene,  divine, 
Magnetical,  like  golden  haze, 

Encircling  mine. 

To-day  I  bless  thee  most  for  power, — 
It  draws  me,  Father,  nearest  thee, — 
To  love  all  thine,  e'en  though  they  give 
No  love  to  me. 

In  stillness  deep,  I  walk  a  land 
Where  spirit-forms  my  footsteps  greet, 
And  beauteous  thoughts,  an  angel  band, 

Chant  low,  and  sweet. 


11 

I  know,  n  ill  darkly  o 

April  days  of  cloud  and  rain  ; 

But  thus  must  hearts,  like  wintry  G 

< i ron  gr<  en  ags in  ! 

I  thank  thee,  Father,  t lint  1  li 

Though  waitings  fill  this  earth  of  thine; 

To  labour  for  thy  Buffering  i 

y  <li\  ine, 

And  ei  en  I,  so  n  oak  and  poor, 
May  bear  some  word  of  life  from  tl 
mi  of  hope  may  reach  some  h< 

Even  through  d 

Anon. 


I  iiavi;  done  at  length  wi  li  dreaming, 
li----  forth,  <  >  thou  bou]  of  mine, 

ike  up  sword  and  gauntlet 
most  divine, 
combat,  \  ictoi 
I  slumbered  on — 
Wit 

With  i.  I]  ondran  d  ! 

( >h  how  in 
I  li  1  tl 
ELad  I  doi 
Bad  1  walk 


12  HEAVENLY    HYMNS 

Yet,  my  soul,  look  not  behind  thee, 

Thou  hast  work  to  do  at  last ; 
Let  the  brave  toil  of  the  present 

Over-arch  thy  crumbling  past — 
Build  thy  great  acts  high,  and  higher, 

Build  them  on  the  conquered  sod, 
Where  thy  weakness  first  fell  bleeding, 

Where  thy  first  prayer  was  to  God. 

Anon. 


'  MY  SOUL,  MY  SOUL,  ARISE !  WHY  SLEEPEST  THOU  P 

Go  labour  on, — spend,  and  be  spent — 

Thy  joy  to  do  thy  Father's  will ; 
It  is  the  way  the  Master  went, — 

Should  not  the  servant  tread  it  still? 

Go  labour  on;  'tis  not  for  nought, — 
Thy  earthly  loss  is  heavenly  gain; 

Men  heed  thee,  love  thee,  praise  thee  not, — 
Thy  Master  praises,  what  are  men? 

Go  labour  on ;  enough,  while  here, 
If  He  shall  praise  thee;  if  He  deign 

Thy  willing  heart  to  mark  and  cheer; 
No  toil  for  Him  shall  be  in  vain. 

Toil  on,  faint  not, — keep  watch,  and  pray; 
Be  wise,  the  erring  soul  to  win ; 


FOR    HEAVY    II  K.\  I  13 

Go  forth  into  the  world's  highway, 

Compel  the  wanderer  to  come  in. 

Toil  on — and  in  thy  toil  rejoice; 

For  toil  comes  rest — for  exile  home; 
Soon  shalt  thou  hear  the  Bridegroom's  voice, 

The  midnight  peal — " Behold,  I  conie!" 

HOR^TIUS    BONAR. 


SELF-DENIAL. 


Is  this  a  time  for  moonlight  dreams 
Of  love  and  home,  by  many  streams  ? 
For  fancy,  with  her  shadowy  toys, 
Aerial  hopes,  and  pensive  joys, 
While  souls  are  wandering  far  and  wide, 
And  curses  swarm  on  every  side  ? 

No  !  rather  steel  thy  melting  heart 
To  act  the  martyr's  sternest  part, 
To  watch  with  firm,  unshrinking  eye, 
Thy  darling  visions,  as  they  die ; 
Till  all  bright  hopes,  and  hues  of  day 
e  faded  into  twilight  gray. 

Yes,  let  them  pass  without  a  sigh ; 
And  if  the  world  seem  dull  and  dry, 
If  long  and  sad  thy  lonely  hours, 
And  winds  have  rent  thy  sheltering  bow 
2 


14  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Bethink  thee  what  thou  art,  and  where, — 
A  sinner,  in  a  life  of  care. 

Pray  only  that  thy  aching  heart, 
From  visions  vain,  content  to  part, 
Strong,  for  love's  sake,  its  woe  to  hide, 
May  cheerful  wait,  the  cross  beside, 
Too  happy,  if  that  dreadful  day, 
Thy  life  be  given  thee  for  a  prey. 

Snatched  sudden  from  the  avenging  rod, 
Safe  in  the  bosom  of  thy  God, 
How  wilt  thou  then  look  back  and  smile 
On  thoughts  that  bitterest  seemed  erewhile ; 
And  bless  the  pangs  that  made  thee  see 
This  was  no  world  of  rest  for  thee ! 

John  Keble. 


ARISE. 

Hush,  idle  words,  and  thoughts  of  ill, 
Your  Lord  is  listening,  peace,  be  still! 
Christ  watches  by  a  Christian's  breath- 
Be  silent,  vain  deluding  mirth, 
Till  in  thine  altered  voice  be  known, 
Somewhat  of  resignation's  tone. 
But  chiefly  ye  should  lift  your  gaze 
Above  the  world's  uncertain  haze, 
And  look  with  calm,  unwavering  eye, 
On  the  bright  fields  beyond  the  sky. 


i  ob   iik.w  v    hi:  \i;  MS.  15 

Think  not  of  rest,  though  dreams  be  sweet; 
Start  up  and  fly  your  heavenward  feet, — 
La  not  God's  oath  upon  your  head 

Ne'er  to  sink  back  on  slothful  bed? 

Never  again  your  loins  untie, 

Nor  let  your  torches  waste  and  die, — 

Till,  when  the  shadows  thickest  fall, 

Ye  hear  your  Master's  midnight  call. 

Anon. 


INFLUENCE. 

What  if  the  little  rain  should  say, 

"So  small  a  drop  as  I 
Can  ne'er  refresh  those  thirsty  fields, 

I'll  tarry  in  the  sky?" 

What  if  a  shining  beam  of  noon 

Should  in  its  fountain  stay, 
Because  its  feeble  light  alone, 

Cannot  create  a  day? 

Doth  not  each  rain-drop  help  to  form 

The  cool  refreshing  shower? 
And  every  ray  of  light  to  warm 

And  beautify  the  flower? 

Go  then — and  strive  to  do  thy  share; 

talent — loss  than  thine — 

Improved  i  itfa  steady  lea]  and  « 

Would  (  divine. 

OTTER. 


16  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


LIYE  TO  DO  GOOD. 

Live  to  do  good ;  but  not  with  thought  to  win 
From  man  return  of  any  kindness  done  ; 

Remember  Him  who  died  on  cross  for  sin, 
The  merciful,  the  meek,  rejected  One ; 

When  He  was  slain  for  crime  of  doing  good, 

Canst  thou  expect  return  of  gratitude  ? 

Do  good  to  all ;  but  while  thou  servest  best 
And  at  thy  greatest  cost,  nerve  thee  to  bear, 

When  thine  own  heart  with  anguish  is  oppressed, 
The  cruel  taunt,  the  cold  averted  air, 

From  lips  which  thou  hast  taught  in  hope  to  pray, 

And  eyes,  whose  sorrows  thou  hast  wiped  away. 

Still  do  thou  good ;  but  for  His  holy  sake 
Who  died  for  thine ;  fixing  thy  purpose  ever 

High  as  His  throne  no  wrath  of  man  can  shake ; 
So  shall  he  own  thy  generous  endeavour, 

And  take  thee  to  His  conqueror's  glory  up, 

When  thou  hast  shared  the  Saviour's  bitter  cup. 

Do  nought  but  good ;  for  such  the  noble  strife 
Of  virtue  is,  'gainst  wrong  to  venture  love, 

And  for  thy  foe  devote  a  brother's  life, 
Content  to  wait  the  recompense  above ; 

Brave  for  the  truth,  to  fiercest  insult  meek, 

In  mercy  strong,  in  vengeance  only  weak. 

George  W.  Bethune. 


FOR    lir.AYY     ESAU  IT 


HERE  IS  MY  HEART. 


Herk,  in  thy  presence,  Lord,  I  stand; 

I  give  myself,  my  all  to  tl 

Thou  hast  redeemed  me  by  thy  precious  blood; 

Thine  only  will  I  be. 
No  love  but  thine,  but  khine,  can  me  relieve, 
No  light  but  thine,  but  thine,  will  I  receive, 
No  light,  no  love,  but  thine  ! 

Take,  take  me,  as  I  am  ;  thou  need'st  me  not, 
I  know  thou  need'st  me  not  at  all ; — 

All  heaven  is  thine,  all  earth,  each  morning  star; 
Hi^h  angels  wait  thv  call ; 

I  am  the  poorest  of  thy  creatures,  I, 

The  child  of  evil,  and  dark  misery  ; — 
Yet  take  me  as  I  am  ! 

Perhaps  thou  overlookest  me  ;  too  small 

A  mote  of  being  for  thine  eye 
To  rest  on,  or  to  care  for  ;  far  beneath 

Thy  mighty  majesty. 
But  still  I  am  a  thing  of  life,  I  know, 
And  made  for  everlasting  joy  or  woe  ; — 
Turn  not  thine  eye  away. 

Perhaps  thou  dost  repent  of  making  me? 
And  yet  this,  0  my  God,  1  know. 

That  I  am  made  made  by  thine  own  great  hand, 
Though  lea>t  of  all  below  ; 


18  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Myself  I  cannot  alter  or  unmake, 
Oh !  wilt  thou  not  this  soul  of  mine  new  make, 
New  make  me,  0  my  God  ! 

Perhaps  for  aught  of  good  I  am  unfit, 
Most  worthless,  and  most  useless  all ; 

Yet  make  me  but  the  meanest  thing  that  lives 
Within  thy  Salem's  wall. 

I  shall  be  well  content,  my  God,  to  be, 

Or  do  or  suffer  aught  that  pleaseth  thee ; — 
Oh  !  cast  me  not  away  ! 

It  would  not  cost  thee  dear  to  bless  me,  Lord, 

A  word  would  do  it,  or  a  sign, 
It  needs  no  more  from  thee,  no  more,  my  God ; 

Thy  words  have  power  divine. 
And  oh  the  boundless  blessedness  to  me — 
Loved,  saved,  forgiven,  renewed  and  blessed  by  thee ! 
Oh  speak,  oh  speak  the  word  ! 

Life  ebbs  apace,  my  night  is  coming  fast ; 

My  cheek  is  wan,  my  hair  is  gray ; 
I  am  not  what  I  was,  when  on  me  blazed 

The  noon  of  youth's  bright  day. 
Make  haste  to  do  for  me  what  thus  I  plead, 
Oh  thou  the  succourer  of  my  great  need, 
Oh  love  and  comfort  me  ! 

I  know  the  blood  of  thine  eternal  Son 
Has  power  to  cleanse  even  me ; 


DAY!    EIA1  L9 

Oil  wash  ino  now,  in  that  all-precious  blood  J 

Gi*e  my  soul  purity ; 
Scatter  the  darkness,  bid  t1  bar  shine, 

Light  np  the  midnight  of  this  sou]  of  mine  : 

Let  all  be  song  and  joy. 

EORJLTIUl    I'.ONAR. 


LIVE  IN  LOVE. 


Be  not  harsh  and  unforgiving, 
Live  in  love,  'tis  pleasant  living. 
If  an  angry  man  should  meet  thee, 
And  assail  thee  indiscreetly, 
Turn  not  thou  again  and  rend  him, 
Lest  thou  needlessly  offend  him; 
Show  him  love  hath  been  thy  teacher, 
Kindness  is  a  potent  preacher: 
Gentleness  is  e'er  forgiving — 
Lire  in  love,  'tis  pleasant  living. 

Why  be  angry  with  each  other? 
Man  was  made  to  lovo  his  brother; 
Kind]  human  duty, 

Meekness  i  celestial  beauty. 
Words  of  kindness,  spoke  in  season, 
Have  a  weight  with  men  of  reason; 
Don't  be  others1  follies  blaming, 
And  their  little  rices  naming; 


20  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Charity's  a  cure  for  railing, 
Suffers  much,  is  all-prevailing ; 
Courage,  then,  and  be  forgiving; 
Live  in  love,  'tis  pleasant  living. 

Let  thy  loving  be  a  passion, 
Not  a  complimental  fashion; 
Live  in  wisdom,  ever  proving 
True  philosophy  is  loving. 
Hast  thou  known  that  bitter  feeling, 
Gendered  by  our  hate's  concealing; 
Better  love,  though  ere  so  blindly, 
E'en  thy  foes  will  call  it  kindly. 
Words  are  wind :  0  let  them  never 
Friendship's  golden  love-cord  sever! 
Nor  be  angry  though  another 
Scorn  to  call  thee  friend  or  brother ; 
"Brother,"  say,  "let's  be  forgiving; 
Live  in  love,  'tis  pleasant  living." 


Anon. 


THE  SYMPATHY  OF  JESUS. 

The  sympathy  of  Jesus — who 

That  ever  sobbed  one  sorrowing  moan 

On  some  kind  bosom,  fondly  true, 
Some  human  bosom  like  our  own, 


FOR    HKAVY    Hi: ARTS.  21 

And  felt  how  much  those  lips  close  pressed, 
That  band  close  clasped  could  calm  our  fears, 

Can  turn  to  this  far  tenderer  breast, 
Without  a  gush  of  thankful  tears? 

The  earthly  heart  on  which  we  lean 

May  have  its  separate  griefs  to  bear, 
Griefs,  though  unspoken  and  unseen, 

Yet  rankling  all  the  deeper  there. 
Its  faltering  strength  may  scarce  sustain 

The  torture  of  its  own  distress, 
And  still  we  add  our  burdened  pain, 

Unconscious  how  the  weight  may  press. 

But  He  whose  human  feet  have  trod 

Earth's  hills  and  valleys — lie  who  knew 
No  sympathy  but  that  of  God, 

Though  linked  with  all  that  craved  it,  too — 
Knows  all  our  yearning,  all  our  need, 

Yet  strong  to  bear  our  utmost  smart — 
He  loves  to  feel  the  throbbing  head 

Close  laid  against  His  pitying  heart. 

To  think  that  on  the  throne  of  thrones 

11     wears  our  lowly  nature  still! 
To  think  that  midst  the  loftiest  tones 

That  through  the  eternal  mansions  thrill, 
Earth's  humblest  pleader  He  will  hear, 

Though  only  tears  bis  anguish  tell; 
That  sobbing  voice  falls  on  His  ear 

More  sweet  than  Gabriel's  ever  fell. 


22  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Then,  sorrowing  spirit,  take  the  grief 

Thou  ne'er  to  mortal  couldst  disclose, 
And  He  will  give  thee  sure  relief, 

Touched  with  the  feeling  of  thy  woes ; 
And  thou  shalt  understand  how  sweet, 

How  filled  with  more  than  human  bliss, 
How  dear — how  tender — how  complete 

The  sympathy  of  Jesus  is ! 

Margaret  Junkin. 


SWEET  BROOKLET. 


Sweet  brooklet,  ever  gliding, 
Now  high  the  mountain  riding, 
The  lone  vale  now  dividing, 

Whither  away! 
"With  pilgrim  course  I  flow, 
Or  in  summer's  scorching  glow, 
Or  o'er  moorless  wastes  of  snow, 

Nor  stop  nor  stay; 
For,  oh  !  by  high  behest, 
To  a  bright  abode  of  rest 
In  my  Parent  Ocean's  breast 

I  hasten  away." 

Many  a  dark  morass, 
Many  a  craggy  pass, 
Thy  feeble  force  must  pass : — 
Yet,  yet  delay ! 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  23 

"  Though  the  marsh  be  dire  and  deep 
Though  the  crag  be  stern  and  steep, 
On,  on,  my  course  must  sweep, — 

I  may  not  stay : 
For,  oh !  be  it  east  or  west, 
To  a  home  of  glorious  rest, 
In  the  bright  sea's  boundless  breast, 
I  hasten  away." 

The  warbling  bowers  beside  thee, 

The  laughing  flowers  that  hide  thee, — 

With  soft  accord,  they  chide  thee, 

Sweet  brooklet  stay. 
"  I  taste  of  the  fragrant  flowers  ; 
I  respond  to  the  warbling  bowers, 
And  sweetly  they  charm  the  hours 

Of  my  winding  way  ; 
But  ceaseless  still,  in  quest 
Of  that  everlasting  rest, 
In  my  parent's  boundless  breast, 

I  hasten  away." 

Kaowest  thou  that  dread  abyss  ? 

I<  it  a  scene  of  bli 

Ali,  rather  cling  to  this, 

et  brooklet  stay  ! 
"Oh,  who  shall  fitly  tell 
What  wonders  there  may  dwell  ? 
That  world  of  mystery  well 
Might  strike  dismay. 


24  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

But  I  know  'tis  my  parent's  breast, — 
There  held,  I  must  needs  be  blest ; 
And  with  joy,  to  that  promised  rest, 
I  hasten  away." 

Sir  Robert  Grant. 


A  STARLESS  CROWN. 

11  It  would  be  a  sad  thing  to  wear  a  starless  crown  in  heaven." 

If  grief  in  heaven  might  find  a  place, 
And  shame  the  worshipper  bow  down, 

"Who  meets  the  Saviour  face  to  face, 
'T  would  be  to  wear  a  starless  crown  ! 

Nor  find  in  all  that  countless  host 
We  meet  before  the  eternal  throne, 

Wrho  once  like  us  were  sinners  lost, 
Any  to  say,  we  led  them  home  ! 

The  Son,  to  do  his  Father's  will, 

Could  lay  his  own  bright  crown  aside  ; 

The  law's  stern  mandate  to  fulfil — 
Poured  out  his  blood  for  us  and  died  ! 

Shall  we,  who  know  his  wondrous  love, 
While  here  below  sit  idly  down  ? 

Ah  then, — if  we  reach  heaven  above, 
There'll  be  for  us  a  starless  crown  ! 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  25 

Oh  may  it  ne'er  of  me  be  said, 

No  soul  that's  saved  by  grace  divine, 

Has  called  for  blessings  on  my  head, 
Or  linked  her  destiny  with  mine. 

Anon. 


"WHY  STAND  YE  IDLE?" 

The  God  of  glory  walks  his  round, 
From  day  to  day,  from  year  to  year, 

And  warns  us  each  with  awful  sound, 
"  No  longer  stand  ye  idle  here. 

"  Ye  whose  young  cheeks  are  rosy  bright, 

Whose  hands  are  strong,  whose  hearts  are  clear, 

Waste  not  of  hope  the  morning  light ! 
Ah,  fools !  why  stand  ye  idle  here  ? 

"  Oh,  as  the  griefs  ye  would  assuage, 

That  wait  on  life's  declining  year, 
Secure  a  blessing  for  your  age, 

And  work  your  Master's  business  here  ! 

"  One  hour  remains,  there  is  but  one  ! 

But  many  a  shriek  and  many  a  tear 
Through  endless  years  the  guilt  must  moan, 

Of  moments  lost  and  wasted  here  !" 

Oh  Thou,  by  all  thy  works  adored, 

To  whom  the  sinner's  soul  is  dear, 
Recall  us  to  thy  vineyard,  Lord  ! 

And  grant  us  grace  to  please  thee  here  ! 

BlSHOP  Richer. 

'A 


26  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


A  MORNING  HYMN. 

Come,  my  soul,  thou  must  be  waking — 
Now  is  breaking 

O'er  the  earth  another  day; 
Come  to  Him  who  made  this  splendour — 
See  thou  render 

All  thy  feeble  powers  can  pay. 

From  the  stars  thy  course  be  learning; 
Dimly  burning, 

'Neath  the  sun,  their  light  grows  pale : 
So  let  all  that  sense  delighted, 
While  benighted, 

From  God's  presence  fade  and  fail. 

Lo !  how  all  of  breath  partaking, 
Gladly  waking, 

Hail  the  sun's  enlivening  light! 
Plants,  whose  life  mere  sap  doth  nourish, 
Rise  and  flourish, 

When  he  breaks  the  shades  of  night. 

Thou,  too,  hail  the  light  returning — 
Ready  burning 

Be  the  incense  of  thy  powers  ; 
For  the  night  is  safely  ended — 
God  hath  tended 

With  his  care,  thy  helpless  hours. 


FOB    11KAVV    HKART8.  27 

Fray  tliat  He  may  prosper  ever 
Each  endeavour, 

When  thine  aim  ifl  good  and  true, 
But  that  he  may  ever  thwart  thee, 
And  convert  thee, 

When  thou  evil  wouldst  pursue. 

Think  that  lie  thy  ways  beholdeth-— 
He  unfoldeth 

Every  fault  that  lurks  within  ; 
Every  stain  of  shame  glossed  over, 
Can  discover, 

And  discern  each  deed  of  sin. 

Fettered  to  the  fleeting  hours 
All  our  powers, 

Vain  and  brief,  are  borne  away. 
Time,  my  soul,  thy  ship  is  steering, 
Onward  veering, 

To  the  gulf  of  death  a  prey. 

Mayst  thou,  then,  on  life's  last  morrow, 
Free  from  sorrow, 

ty  in  slumber  sweet ; 
And,  released  from  death's  dark  sadness, 
Rise  in  glsdni 

That  far  brighter  Sun  to  greet. 

Only  I  Jod'fi  free  gifti  ot, 

J 1 1  —  light  refine  not. 

But  .-till  hifl  Spirit's  voice  obey; 


28  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Soon  shall  joy  thy  brow  be  wreathing, 
Splendour  breathing 

Fairer  than  the  fairest  day. 

If  aught  of  care  this  morn  oppress  thee, 
To  Him  address  thee, 

Who,  like  the  sun,  is  good  to  all. 
•He  gilds  the  mountain  tops,  the  while 
His  gracious  smile 

Will  on  the  humblest  fall. 

Eound  thee,  gifts  His  bounty  showers ; 
Walls  and  towers 

Girt  with  flames,  thy  God  shall  rear ; 
Angel  legions,  to  defend  thee, 
Shall  attend  thee — 

Hosts  whom  Satan's  self  shall  fear. 

•  Baron  Von  Canitz. 


LIFE. 

Life  is  onward :  use  it 

With  a  forward  aim ; 
Toil  is  heavenly — choose  it, 

And  its  warfare  claim. 
Look  not  to  another 

To  perform  your  will ; 
Let  not  your  own  brother 

Keep  your  warm  hand  still. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS.  29 

Life  is  onward  :  never 

Look  upon  the  past ; 
It  would  hold  you  ever 

In  its  clutches  fast. 
Now  is  your  dominion, 

Weave  it  as  you  please. 
Bind  not  the  soul's  pinion 

To  a  bed  of  ease. 

Life  is  onward  :  try  it, 

Ere  the  day  is  lost ; 
It  hath  virtue,  buy  it, 

At  whatever  cost. 
If  the  world  should  offer 

Every  precious  gem, 
Look  not  at  the  scoffer, 

Change  it  not  for  them. 

Life  is  onward  :  heed  it 

In  each  varied  dress  ; 
Your  own  act  can  speed  it 

On  to  happiness. 
His  bright  pinion  o'er  you 

Time  wraves  not  in  vain, 
If  Hope  chant  before  you 

Her  prophetic  strain. 

Life  is  onward:  prize  it 
In  sunshine  and  in  storm  ; 

Oh  !  do  not  despise  it 
In  its  humblest  form. 

3  * 


30  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Hope  and  Joy  together, 

Standing  at  the  goal, 
Through  life's  darkest  weather 

Beckon  on  the  soul. 

Anon. 


THE  CHRISTIAN'S  WALK. 


Christian  !  walk  carefully — danger  is  near, 
On,  in  thy  journey,  with  trembling  and  fear ; 
Snares  from  without  and  temptations  within, 
Seek  to  entice  thee  again  into  sin. 

Christian !    walk    cheerfully  —  though    the    fierce 

storm, 
Darken  the  sky  with  the  clouds  of  alarm, 
Soon  will  those  clouds  and  the  tempest  be  past, 
And  thou  shalt  dwell  safely  with  Jesus  at  last. 

Christian  !  walk  humbly — exult  not  in  pride  ; 
All  that  thou  hast  is  by  Jesus  supplied ; 
Holding  thee  up,  he  directeth  thy  ways, 
To  him  be  for  ever  the  glory  and  praise. 

Christian  !  walk  steadfastly — while  in  the  light ; 
Swift  are  approaching  the  shadows  of  night ! 
All  that  thy  Master  hath  bidden  thee,  do, 
Haste  to  perform,  for  thy  moments  are  few ! 


I  ;lt  thou  fall, 

If  t!  •  an  thj   B  «ll : 

If  tkoa  ill  dad  in  the  armour 

'i  !  walk  — trouble  and  pain 

m  when  ii. 

prard  : — 
:  -y  of  thj 

Anon. 


■His  compassions  fail  not     They  are  new  <  >ng." 

Lan 

Hi  rich  imfoldi] 

That, 

By  some  soft  touch  b 

to  BWell  : — 

Upon  our  thankl 
Wl 

iom  of  fa 

Oh  !    ti: 

Eaarta  thai  >e  ! 

3  that  tin-  lx-ain  06kat 

I]  thing-  i. 


32  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

New  every  morning  is  the  love 
Our  wakening  and  uprising  prove ; 
Through  sleep  and  darkness  safely  brought, 
Restored  to  life,  and  power,  and  thought. 

New  mercies,  each  returning  day, 
Hover  around  us,  while  we  pray ; 
New  perils  past,  new  sins  forgiven, 
New  thoughts  of  God,  new  hopes  of  heaven. 

If  on  our  daily  course,  our  mind 
Be  set,  to  hallow  all  we  find, 
New  treasures  still,  of  countless  price, 
God  will  provide  for  sacrifice. 

We  need  not  bid,  for  cloistered  cell, 
Our  neighbour  and  our  work  farewell, 
Nor  strive  to  wind  ourselves  too  high 
For  sinful  man  beneath  the  sky : 

The  trivial  round,  the  common  task, 
Would  furnish  all  we  ought  to  ask ; — 
Room  to  deny  ourselves  ;  a  road 
To  bring  us  daily,  nearer  God. 

Only,  0  Lord,  in  thy  dear  love 
Fit  us  for  perfect  rest  above ; 
And  help  us,  this,  and  every  day, 
To  live  more  nearly  as  we  pray. 

John  Keble. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  33 

THE  LIFE-GAUGE. 
They  err  who  measure  life  by  years, 

With  false  or  thoughtless  tongue : 
Some  hearts  grow  old  before  their  time ; 

Others  are  always  young ! 

'Tis  not  the  number  of  the  lines 

On  life's  fast  filling  page ; 
'Tis  not  the  pulse's  added  throbs, 

Which  constitute  our  age. 

Some  souls  are  serfs,  among  the  free, 

While  others  nobly  strive ; 
They  stand  just  where  their  fathers  stood  ; 

Dead,  even  while  they  live  ! 

Others,  all  spirit,  heart  and  sense  ; —    • 

Their's  the  mysterious  power 
To  live,  in  thrills  of  joy  or  wo, 

A  twelvemonth  in  an  hour  ! 

Seize,  then,  the  minutes  as  they  pass — 

The  wolf  of  life  is  thought; 
Warm  up  the  colours,  let  them  glow, 

By  fire  or  fancy  fraught  ! 

Live  to  some  purpose — make  thy  life 

A  gift  of  use  to  thee — 
A  joy,  a  good,  a  golden  hope, 

A  heavenly  argosy  ! 

Abby  Alli>. 


34  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THE  LIFE-CLOCK. 

There  is  a  little  mystic  clock, 

No  human  eye  hath  seen, 
That  beateth  on — and  beateth  on, 

From  morning  until  e'en. 

And  when  the  soul  is  wrapped  in  sleep, 

And  heareth  not  a  sound  ; 
It  ticks  and  ticks,  the  live-long  night, 

And  never  runneth  down. 

Oh,  wondrous  is  the  work  of  art, 
Which  knells  the  passing  hour, — 

But  art  ne'er  formed,  nor  mind  conceived, 
The  life-clock's  magic  power. 

Nor  set  in  gold,  nor  decked  with  gems, 

By  pride  and  wealth  possessed, 
But  rich  or  poor,  or  high,  or  low, 

Each  bears  it  in  his  breast. 

When  life's  deep  stream  'mid  beds  of  flowers, 

And  still,  and  softly  glides ; 
Like  the  wavelet's  step,  with  a  gentle  beat, 

It  warns  of  passing  tides. 

When  passion  nerves  the  warrior's  arm 

For  deeds  of  hate  and  wrong, 
Though  heeded  not,  the  fearful  sound, 

The  knell  is  deep  and  strong. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  35 

When  eyes  to  eyes  are  gazing  soft, 

And  tender  words  are  spoken, 
Then  fast  and  wild,  it  rattles  on, 

As  if  with  love  'twere  broken. 

Such  is  the  clock  that  measures 

Of  flesh  and  spirit  blended, 
And  thus  'twill  run  within  the  breast, 

Till  this  strange  life  is  ended. 

From  the  German. 


MY  PRAYER. 


Let  me  not  die  before  I've  done  for  Thee 
My  earthly  work,  whatever  it  may  be; 
Call  me  not  hence,  with  mission  unfulfilled, 
Let  me  not  leave  my  space  of  ground  untilled. 
Impress  this  truth  upon  me — that  not  one 
Can  do  my  portion,  that  I  leave  undone; — 
For  each  one,  in  thy  vineyard,  hath  a  spot 
To  labour  in,  for  life,  and  weary  not. 
Then  give  me  strength,  all  faithfully  to  toil, 
Converting  barren  earth  to  fruitful  soil. 
I  long  to  be  an  instrument  of  Thine, 
To  be  the  means  one  human  soul  to  save 
From  the  dark  terrors  of  a  hopeless  grave. 
Yet  most  I  want  a  spirit  of  content, 
To  work  where'er  thou'lt  wish  my  labour  spent, 
Whether  at  home,  or  in  a  stranger  clime, — 
In  days  of  joy,  or  sorrow's  sterner  time; 


36  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

I  want  a  spirit,  passive  to  lie  still 

And  by  thy  power  to  do  Thy  holy  will. 

And  when  this  prayer  unto  my  lips  doth  rise, — 

"Before  a  new  home  doth  my  soul  surprise" 
Let  me  accomplish  some  great  work  for  Thee! 
Subdue  it,  Lord!  let  my  petition  be: — 

"Oh  make  me  useful  in  this  land  of  Thine, 
In  ways  according  to  thy  will,  not  mine.,, 
Let  me  not  leave  my  space  of  ground  untilled, 
Call  me  not  hence  with  mission  unfulfilled, 
Let  me  not  die  before  I've  done  for  Thee 
My  earthly  work,  whatever  it  may  be ! 

Anon, 


A  NAME  IN  THE  SAND. 

Alone  I  walked  the  ocean  strand, 
A  pearly  shell  was  in  my  hand ; 
I  stooped,  and  wrote  upon  the  sand 

My  name — the  year — the  day, 
As  onward  from  the  spot  I  passed ; 
One  lingering  look  behind  I  cast — 
A  wave  came  rolling  high  and  fast, 

And  washed  my  lines  away. 

And  so,  methought,  'twill  shortly  be 
With  every  mark  on  earth  from  me ; 
A  wave  of  dark  oblivion's  sea 
Will  sweep  across  the  pi  a  re 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  37 

Where  I  have  trod  the  sandy  shore 
Of  time,  and  been,  to  be  no  more ; 
Of  me,  my  frame,  the  name  I  bore, 
To  leave  no  track  nor  trace. 

And  yet,  with  Him  who  counts  the  sands, 
And  holds  the  waters  in  His  hands, 
I  know  a  lasting  record  stands 

Inscribed  against  my  name, 
Of  all  this  mortal  part  has  wrought, 
Of  all  this  thinking  soul  has  thought, 
And  from  these  fleeting  moments  caught 

For  glory  or  for  shame  ! 

Hannah  F.  Gould. 


GOD'S  SUPPORT  AND  GUIDANCE. 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God, 

Thou  God  of  my  salvation  ! 
Give  me  thy  light,  to  be 

My  sure  illumination. 
My  soul  to  folly  turns, 

Seeking,  she  knows  not  what ; 
Oh  !  lead  her  to  thyself — 

My  God,  forsake  me  not ! 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God  ! 

Take  not  thy  Spirit  from  me ; 

And  suffer  not  the  might 

Of  sin  to  overcome  me. 
4 


38  HEAVENLY   HYMNS     . 

A  father  pitieth 

The  children  he  begot ; 

My  Father,  pity  me — 
My  God,  forsake  me  not. 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God ! 

Thou  God  of  life  and  power, 
Enliven,  strengthen  me 

In  every  evil  hour ; 
And  when  the  sinful  fire 

Within  my  heart  is  hot, 
Be  not  thou  far  from  me, — 

My  God,  forsake  me  not ! 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God ! 

Uphold  me  in  my  going, 
That  evermore  I  may 

Please  thee  in  all  well-doing ; 
And  that  thy  will,  0  Lord  ! 

May  never  be  forgot 
In  all  my  works  and  ways — 

My  God,  forsake  me  not ! 

Forsake  me  not,  my  God ! 

I  would  be  thine  for  ever ; 
Confirm  me  mightily 

In  every  right  endeavour : 
And  when  my  hour  is  come, 

Cleansed  from  all  stain  and  spot 
Of  sin,  receive  my  soul — 

My  God,  forsake  me  not ! 


From  the  German. 


FOK   HEAVY   HEAB  39 


FORWARD. 


Shall  this  life  of  mine  be  wasted  J 
Shall  this  vineyard  lie  untilled  ? 

Shall  true  joy  pass  by  untasted, 
And  this  soul  remain  unfilled  ? 

Shall  this  heart  still  spend  its  treasures 
On  the  things  that  fade  and  die  ? 

Shall  it  count  the  hollow  pleasures 
Of  bewildering  vanity  ? 

Shall  these  lips  of  mine  be  idle — 

Shall  I  open  them  in  vain  ? 
Shall  I  not  with  God's  own  bridle 

Their  frivolities  restrain  ? 

Shall  these  eyes  of  mine  still  wander  ? 

Or,  no  longer  turned  afar, 
Fix  a  firmer  gaze,  and  fonder, 

On  the  bright  and  Morning  Star  ? 

Shall  these  feet  of  mine,  delaying, 
Still  in  ways  of  sin  be  found,    • 

Braving  sum  res.  and  madly  straying 
On  the  world's  bewitching  ground? 

No  !  I  was  not  borD  to  trifle 
Life  aAvav.  in  dreams  of  sin. 

No  !  I  was  not  born  to  stifle 
Longings  such  as  these  within. 


40  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Where  the  cross,  God's  love  revealing, 

Sets  the  fettered  spirit  free ; 
"Where  it  sheds  the  wondrous  healing, 

There,  my  soul,  thy  rest  shall  be. 

Then,  no  longer  idly  dreaming, 

Shall  I  fling  my  years  away ; 
But  each  precious  hour  redeeming, 

Wait  for  the  eternal  day. 

HORATITJS   BONAR. 


GOD,  MY  EXCEEDING  JOY. 

Psalm  xliii.  4. 

Early  my  spirit  turned 

From  earthly  things  away, 
And  agonized  and  yearned 

For  the  eternal  day : 
Dimly  I  saw  when  but  a  boy, 
God,  my  exceeding  joy. 

In  days  of  fiercer  flame, 

When  passion  urged  me  on 
'Twas  only  bliss  in  name — 

The  pleasure  soon  was  gone. 
Compared  with  Thee  how  all  things  cloy, 
God,  my  exceeding  joy  ! 

At  length  the  moment  came — 
Jesus  made  known  his  love ; 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  41 

High  shot  the  kindling  flame 

To  glories  all  above, 
Now  all  the  powers  one  theme  employ, 

God,  my  exceeding  joy. 

* 

Shadows  came  on  apace ; 

Tears  were  a  pensive  shower ; 
I  cried  for  timely  grace 

To  save  me  from  the  hour : 
Thou  gavest  peace,  without  alloy ; 
God,  my  exceeding  joy. 

One  trial  yet  awaits, 

Gigantic  at  the  close ; 
All  that  my  spirit  hates 

May  then  my  peace  oppose ; 
But  God  shall  this  last  foe  destroy, — 
God,  my  exceeding  joy. 

James  W.  Alexander. 


PATIENT  CONTINUANCE  IN  WELL-DOING. 

Bear  the  burden  of  the  present — 
Let  the  morrow  bear  its  own  ; 

If  the  morning  sky  be  pleasant, 
Why  the  coming  night  bemoan  ? 

If  the  darkened  heavens  lower, 

Wrap  thy  cloak  around  thy  form ; 
4  * 


42  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Though  the  tempest  rise  in  power, 
God  is  mightier  than  the  storm ! 

Steadfast  faith,  and  hope  unshaken 

Animate  the  trusting  breast ; 
Step  by  step,  the  journey's  taken, 

Nearer  to  the  land  of  rest ! 

All  unseen,  the  Master  walketh 

By  the  toiling  servant's  side ; 
Comfortable  words  he  talketh, 

While  his  hands  uphold  and  guide. 

Grief,  nor  pain,  nor  any  sorrow, 
Rends  thy  breast  to  him  unknown ; 

He  to-day,  and  he  to-morrow, 
Grace  sufficient  gives  his  own. 

Holy  strivings  nerve  and  strengthen — 
Long  endurance  wins  the  crown ; 

When  the  evening's  shadows  lengthen, 
Thou  shalt  lay  the  burden  down  ! 

Thomas  Mackellar. 


KIND  WORDS. 


One  little  word,  if  softly  spoken — 
One  little  tear,  if  kindly  shed — 

Can  heal  the  spirit  bruised  and  broken, 
And  cure  the  heart  that  long  hath  bled. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  43 

Once  in  a  distant  land,  a  stranger — 
Alike  unknowing,  and  unknown — 

A  prey  to  every  hidden  danger — 
I  wandered  darkly  on  alone. 

With  mournful  tidings  often  greeted, 
Until  my  soul  was  sick  and  sore, 

My  heart  at  last  would  not  be  cheated 
With  what  had  cured  its  pains  before. 

So  deep  and  bitter  was  my  sorrow, 

Existence  was  a  constant  pain  ; 
I  wished  not  to  perceive  the  morrow 

Or  greet  the  gaze  of  man  again. 

Just  then,  when  all  was  dark  before  me, 
And  hope  had  closed  her  wing  to  die, 

The  music  of  a  voice  stole  o'er  me 
Scarce  louder  than  an  infant's  sigh. 

The  words  were  few,  but  oh,  how  tender ! 

Their  hallowed  accents  still  I  hear ; 
They  made  my  stubborn  grief  surrender, 

And  banished  every  sinking  fear. 

Oh  ye  who  have  no  goods,  nor  money, 
To  give  to  those  who  mourn  and  weep, 

Kind  words  are  sweeter  far  than  honey, 
And  twice  ten  thousand  times  as  cheap. 

Julian  Cromer. 


44  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THE  BRIDEGROOM'S  DOVE. 

"O  my  Dove!  in  the  clefts  of  the  rock,  in  the  secret  of  the 
stairs  !"  Cant.  ii.  14. 

"My  Dove!"    The  Bridegroom  speaks.  To  whom? 

Whom,  think'st  thou  meaneth  He  ? 
Say,  0  my  soul!  canst  thou  presume 

He  thus  addresseth  thee  ? 
Yes,  'tis  the  Bridegroom's  voice  of  love, 
Calling  thee,  0  my  soul !  His  Dove  ! 

The  Dove  is  gentle,  mild,  and  meek : 

Deserve  I,  then,  the  name? 
I  look  within,  in  vain  to  seek 

Aught  which  can  give  a  claim : 
Yet,  made  so  by  redeeming  love, 
My  soul,  thou  art  the  Bridegroom's  Dove ! 

Methinks,  my  soul,  that  thou  may'st  see, 

In  this  endearing  word, 
Reasons  why  Jesus  likens  thee 

To  this  defenceless  bird  ; 
Reasons  which  show  the  Bridegroom's  love 
To  His  poor,  helpless,  timid  Dove  ! 

The  Dove,  of  all  the  feathered  tribe, 

Doth  least  of  power  possess  : — 
My  soul,  what  better  can  describe 

Thine  utter  helplessness  ? 
Yet  courage  take  !  the  Bridegroom's  love 
Will  keep,  defend,  protect  His  Dove  ! 


roi   hkavv   iikakts.  If 

Tlie  Dove  hath  neither  daw  nor  sting, 

Nor  weapon  for  the  fight  : 
She  owes  her  safety  to  her  wing, 

Her  victory  to  ili(Lrht. 
A  shelter  hath  the  Bridegroom's  love 
Provided  for  Bis  helpless  Dove! 

The  Hawk  comes  on  in  eager  chase, — 
The  Dove  will  not  resist; 

In  flying  to  her  hiding-place, 
Her  safety  doth  consist. 

The  Bridegroom  opes  his  arms  of  love, 
And  in  them  folds  His  panting  Dove  ! 

Nothing  the  Dove  can  now  molest, 

Safe  from  the  fowler's  snare  ; 
The  Bridegroom's  bosom  is  her  nest — 

Nothing  can  harm  her  there. 
Encircled  by  the  arms  of  love, 
Almighty  power  protects  the  Dove  ! 

As  the  poor  Dove,  before  the  Hawk, 

Quick  to  her  refuge  flics, 
So  need  I,  in  my  daily  walk, 

The  wing  which  faith  supplies 
To  bear  me  where  the  Bridegroom's  love 
Will  place  beyond  all  harm  His  Dove  ! 

My  soul,  of  native  power  bereft, 
To  Calvary  repairs  ; — 


46  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Immanuel  is  the  rocky  cleft 
The  secret  of  the  stairs  ! 
Since  placed  there  by  the  Bridegroom's  love 
What  evil  can  befal  His  Dove  ! 

Though  Sinai's  thunder  round  her  roars, 
Though  Ebal's  lightnings  flash, 

Though  Heaven  a  fiery  torrent  pours, 
And  riven  mountains  crash — 

Through  all,  the  "still  small  voice"  of  love 

Whispers,  "  Be  not  afraid,  my  Dove  !" 

What  though  the  heavens  away  may  pass, 

With  fervent  heat  dissolve, 
And  round  the  sun,  this  earthly  mass 

No  longer  shall  revolve  ! 
Behold  a  miracle  of  love  ! 
The  lion  quakes,  but  not  the  Dove ! 

My  soul,  now  hid  within  a  rock, 
(The  "Kock  of  Ages"  called,) 

Amid  the  universal  shock 
Is  fearless,  unappalled  ; — 

A  cleft  therein,  prepared  by  love, 

In  safety  hides  the  Bridegroom's  Dove  ! 

0  happy  Dove  !  thus  weak,  thus  safe  ; 

Do  I  resemble  her  ? 
Then  to  my  soul,  0  Lord !  vouchsafe 

A  dove-like  character ! 
Pure,  harmless,  gentle,  full  of  love 
Make  me  in  spirit,  Lord,  a  Dove ! 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  47 

0  Thou,  who  on  the  Bridegroom's  head 

Did'st,  as  a  Dove,  come  down, 
Within  my  soul  Thy  graces  shed, 

Establish  there  Thy  throne. 
There  shed  abroad  a  Saviour's  love, 
Thou,  holy,  pure,  and  heavenly  Dove  ! 

Anon. 


DROPS  OF  HONEY. 


Drops  of  Honey — let  them  fall 

From  the  lip,  and  from  the  pen ; 
Scatter  them  at  sorrow's  call : 

Stay  not,  asking  where  ?  or  when  ? 
Let  them  fall,  these  drops  of  honey  ; 

The  poor  need  them,  who've  no  money. 

Drops  of  Honey — human  bees 

Cluster  round  us,  daily  craving 
Just  one  drop — one  sweet  hearts-ease  ; 

For  him,  who  life's  storm  is  braving ; 
Then  let  fall,  these  drops  of  honey, 

They  may  prize  them,  who  have  money. 

Drops  of  Honey — kindly  wTords, 
Haste  to  breathe  them  every  hour ; 

Sweeter  than  the  song  of  birds  ; 

Rich  and  poor  both  feel  their  power. 

And  all  can  give  these  drops  of  honey, 

Which  some  hearts  value,  more  than  money. 

Mrs.  Axger. 


48  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


ONE  BY  ONE. 

One  by  one,  the  sands  are  flowing, 
One  by  one  the  moments  fall ; 

Some  are  coming,  some  are  going, 
Do  not  strive  to  grasp  them  all. 

One  by  one,  thy  duties  meet  thee, — 
Let  thy  whole  strength  go  to  each ; 

Let  no  future  dreams  elate  thee, 

Learn  thou  first  what  these  can  teach. 

One  by  one,  bright  gifts  from  Heaven, 
Joys  are  sent  thee  here  below, 

Take  them  readily  when  given, 
And  as  calmly  let  them  go. 

One  by  one,  thy  griefs  shall  meet  thee  :— 
Do  not  fear  an  armed  band : 

One  will  pass,  as  others  greet  thee, 
Shadows  flitting  through  the  land; 

Do  not  look  at  Life's  long  sorrow, 
See  howr  small  each  moment's  pain  ; 

God  will,  for  thee,  each  to-morrow 
Every-day  begin  again. 

Every  hour  that  flits  so  slowly 

Has  its  task  to  do  or  bear  ; 
Luminous  the  crown  and  holy, 

If  thou  set  each  gem  with  care. 


i 


FOR    HEAVY    UK  ARTS.  49 

Do  not  linger  with  regretting, 
Or  for  error's  hour  despond, 

Nor,  thy  daily  toil  forgetting, 
Look  too  eagerly  beyond. 

Hours  are  golden  links,  God's  token. 

Reaching  Heaven  one  by  one, 
Take  them,  lest  the  chain  be  broken 

Ere  the  pilgrimage  be  done. 

Adelaide  A.  Proctor. 


"STREW  ON  LIFE'S  PATH  A  FLOWER." 

On  strew  on  life's  wild  path  a  flower, 
Ye  that  have  one  to  spare  ; 

To  cheer  the  pilgrim  on  his  road, 
And  lessen  human  care. 

Some  little  gift  we  all  may  give, 

However  poor  or  low  ; 
To  cheer  a  brother  in  distress, 

And  mitigate  his  woe. 

A  kindly  word  will  never  make 

The  giver  sadly  poor. 
And  know  that  even  tie  weet 

To  hearts  that  much  endu 


6 


50  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Yea,  many  a  kindly  office  we 

May  for  each  other  do ; 
That  in  the  coming  hours  of  time 

May  prove  refreshing  dew  ! 

Refreshing  to  our  weary  souls, 
When  earthly  things  shall  pass  • 

And  all  our  lofty  plans  shall  fall 
To  dust,  and  break  like  glass  ! 

If  ye  have  gold  enough  to  spare, 

Let  not  the  widow  sigh, 
Amid  her  little  orphan  ones, 

But  all  her  wants  supply. 

God  with  an  overruling  hand, 
Dispenses  wealth  to  some  ; 

Yet  such  are  only  stewards  here, 
For  earth  is  not  our  home. 

Bind  up  the  broken  heart  with  love, 
And  cheer  each  fainting  one ; 

Yield  kindness  unto  all  who  need  : — 
This  duty  should  be  done. 

It  will  repay  thee  sevenfold ; 

Such  gentle  deeds  shall  be 
Undying  as  thy  deathless  soul 

In  bright  eternity  ! 


Anon. 


FOB    HEAVY   HEARTS.  51 


HASTE  NOT— REST  NOT. 

Without  haste,  and  without  rest — 
Bind  the  motto  to  thy  breast; 
Heed  not  flowers  that  round  thee  bloom, 
Bear  it  onward  to  the  tomb. 

Ponder  well,  and  know  the  right ; 
Onward,  then,  with  all  thy  might ; 
Haste  not — years  can  ne'er  atone 
For  one  restless  action  done. 

Duty  be  thy  polar  guide — 
Do  the  right,  whate'er  betide. 
Haste  not — rest  not — conflicts  past, 
God  shall  crown  thy  work  at  last. 

From  the  German  of  Goethe. 


HOPE  EVER. 


The  night  is  mother  of  the  day, 

The  winter  of  the  spring: 
And  ever  upon  old  decay, 

The  greenest  mosses  cling. 
Behind  the  cloud  the  Starlight  lurks  ; 

Through  showers  the  sunbeams  fall  ; 

For  God.  who  loveth  all  his  works, 
Has  left  his  hope  with  all. 

Anon. 


52  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


GENTLE  WORDS. 


It  is  not  much  the  world  can  give, 

With  all  its  subtle  art, 
And  gold  and  gems  are  not  the  things, 

To  satisfy  the  heart. 
But  oh  !  if  those  who  cluster  round 

The  altar  and  the  hearth, 
Have  gentle  words  and  loving  smiles, 

How  beautiful  is  earth  ! 


Anon. 


THE  WEALTH  OF  KINDNESS. 

Oh,  leave  a  smile  of  kindness 

Wherever  you  may  go ! 
It  will  ease  the  soul  of  sadness 

And  dry  the  tears  that  flow  ; 
The  heart  that's  well  nigh  breaking 

Will  feel  its  soothing  power ; 
Then  leave  a  look  of  kindness, 

It  costs  you  nothing  more. 

We  know  not  half  the  sorrow 
That  bows  our  kinsman  down, 

Nor  what  is  gained  by  giving, 
A  kind  look  for  a  frown  ! 

'Tis  but  a  simple  dowry 
Which  wealth  is  far  below ! 


FOB  iii;avv   BBABTS.  53 

Be  kind,  then,  to  the  wretched, 
And  thou  shalt  mercy  know  ! 

Is  there  a  heart  among  us 
Without  some  secret  chord, 

That  vibrates  not  from  kindness— 

From  just  a  simple  word  ? — 
Its  rays  are  like  the  sunshine 

That  parts  the  gathering  gloom  ; 

Then  shed  those  beams  of  kindness  ! — 

They'll  shine  upon  thy  tomb ! 

Anon. 


EXTRACTS. 

We  all  might  do  good 

When  we  often  do  ill; 
There  is  always  the  way 

If  we  have  but  the  will. 
Though  it  be  but  a  word, 

Kindly  breathed,  or  suppressed, 
It  may  guard  off  some  pain, 

Or  give  peace  to  some  breast  ! 

Anon. 


Who  blesses  others  in  his  daily  deeds 
Will  find  the  healing  that  his  spirit  need*, 
For  every  flower  in  other's  pathway  thrown 
Confers  its  fragrant  beauty  on  our  own. 

Anon. 


54  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Oh  God  of  glory !  thou  hast  treasured  up 
For  me  my  little  portion  of  distress, 

But  with  each  draught,  in  every  bitter  cup 

Thy  hand  hath  mixed,  to  make  its  sourness  less, 
Some  cordial  drop,  for  which  thy  name  I  bless. 

Anon, 


Let  us  draw  their  mantles  o'er  us, 

Which  have  fallen  in  our  way ; 
Let  us  do  the  work  before  us, 

Cheerly,  bravely,  while  we  may ; 
Ere  the  long  night  silence  cometh, 

And  with  us  it  is  not  day. 

Anon. 


KINDNESS. 

'Tis  a  little  thing, 
To  give  a  cup  of  water,  yet  its  draught 
Of  cool  refreshment,  drained  by  fever's  lips, 
May  send  a  shock  of  pleasure  to  the  soul 
More  exquisite  than  when  nectarian  juice 
Renews  the  life  of  joy  in  happiest  hours. 

'Tis  a  little  thing  to  speak  some  common  word 
Of  comfort,  which  hath  almost  lost  its  use ; 
Yet  on  the  ear  of  him,  who  thought  to  die 
Unmourned,  'twill  fall  like  choicest  music. 

Talfourd. 


FOB    IIL.WV    BBA1 


TEMPTATION. 

How  many  forms  it  shows  to  us, 
How  many  shapes  it  wears  ! 

With  what  bewitching  gentleness 

It  lays  its  many  Miai 
Oh  !   when  the  heart  is  light  and  free, 

All  confidence  and  joy, 
And  we  in  sunshine  careless  sit, 

With  nothing  to  alloy, 

How  stealthily  it  creeps  around 

The  portals  of  the  mind ! 
The  most  unguarded,  yielding  point, 

Seeks  eagerly  to  find. 
To  every  grade  its  form  it  suits, 

To  minds  of  every  hue, 
To  every  earthly  being,  comes, 

With  semblance  ever  new. 

It  comes,  to  make  us  food  for  thought, 
For  deep  remorse  and  pain  : 

To  make  us  wish  the  hours  recalled, 
And  wish,  and  wish  in  vain. 

Oh,  for  a  talisman  !  to  ward 
This  fair  deceit  away! 

'Tis  dangerous  to  admit  it  near; 
death  with  it  to  play, 


56  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


SINCERITY. 

Very  many  are  the  blessings 

Cast  around  our  pilgrim  way- 
Kindly  greetings,  love's  caressings, 

Cheer  our  hearts  from  day  to  day ; 
But  of  all  the  things  we  see, 
Loveliest  is  sincerity. 

Men  may  look  with  smiles  upon  us, 
Help  us  forward  on  our  way, 

Give  the  grasp  of  seeming  fondness. 
Chase  the  cares  of  life  away ; 

But  what  kindness  will  it  be, 
If  it  lack  sincerity  ? 

We  would  chant  in  glowing  numbers, 
Words  of  love  and  deeds  of  fame, 

But  the  eye  that  never  slumbers, 
Might  deny  them  e'en  a  name; 

For  His  awful  scrolls  on  high 
Are  records  of  sincerity. 

If  we  trust  in  Truth's  direction, 
Though  distresses  sore  assail, 

We  shall  witness  sure  protection, 
While  the  hypocrites  shall  fail ; 

Let  our  earnest  wishes  be 
For  thy  gifts — Sincerity. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  57 

Very  simple  may  the  dressing 

Of  our  guileless  spirits  seem, 
But  if  Jesus  give  his  blessing 

They  will  glow  with  purest  beam ; 
For  each  word  and  deed  will  be 

Shining  with  sincerity. 

Heavenly  Father  !  Truth  immortal 

Is  the  herald  of  Thy  throne — 
And  he  opes  its  glittering  portal 

To  the  upright  heart  alone ; 

For  we  cannot  live  with  Thee 

If  we  lack  sincerity. 

Anon. 


KINDNESS. 

A  little  word  in  kindness  spoken, 

A  motion  or  a  tear, 
Has  often  healed  the  heart  that's  broken, 

And  made  a  friend  sincere. 

A  word — a  look, — has  crushed  to  earth 

Full  many  a  budding  flower ; 
Which,  had  a  smile  but  owned  its  birth, 

Would  bless  life's  darkest  hour. 

Then  deem  it  not  an  idle  thing, 

A  pleasant  word  to  speak  ; 

The  face  you  wear,  the  thoughts  you  bring, 

A  heart  may  heal  or  break. 

Anon, 


58  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THERE'S  GOOD  IN  EVERY  HEART. 

Wouldst  thou  win  the  crime-stained  wanderer  back 

From  Vice's  dark  and  hideous  track  ? 

Let  not  a  frown  thy  brow  deform, 

'Twill  add  but  fierceness  to  the  storm. 

Deal  kindly.     In  that  bosom  dark, 

Still  lingers  Virtue's  glimmering  spark. 

Plead  with  him — 'tis  the  nobler  part — 

There's  something  good  in  every  heart. 

Bring  to  his  mind  the  early  time 

Ere  sin  had  stained  his  soul  with  crime ; 

When  fond  affection  blessed  his  hours, 

And  strewed  his  joyous  path  with  flowers  ; 

When  sportive  jest,  and  harmless  glee, 

Bespoke  a  spirit  pure  and  free. 

Plead  with  him — 'tis  the  nobler  part — 

There's  something  good  in  every  heart ! 

There  was  a  time  that  heart  did  rest 

Close  to  a  mother's  yearning  breast — 

A  time  his  ear  the  precepts  caught 

A  kind  and  virtuous  father  taught. 

It  matters  not  what  treacherous  ray 

First  lured  his  steps  from  Virtue's  way ; 

Enough  to  know  thou  yet  mayst  save 

That  soul  from  sin's  engulphing  wave. 

Plead  with  him — act  the  nobler  part — 

There's  something  good  in  every  heart. 

Anon. 


FOB    11  i:\vv    SBAB  f>y 


Whauvbb  passes  as  i  cloud  between 

The  mental  eye  of  faith,  and  things  unseen, 

Causing  that  bright  world  to  disappear, 

Or  seem  Less  loyely,  and  its  hopes  less  dear; 

This  is  our  world,  our  idol,  though  it  bear 
Affection's  impress,  or  devotion's  air! 

Anon. 


THE  CRICKET. 
The  cricket,  he  dwells  in  the  cold,  cold  ground, 

At  the  foot  of  the  old  oak  tree, 
And  all  through  the  lengthened  autumn  night, 

A  merry  song  sings  he. 
He  whistles  ■  clear  and  merry  tune, 
By  the  sober  light  of  the  silver  moon. 
The  winds  may  moan 
With  a  hollow  tone 
All  through  the  Leaves  of  the  rustling  tree ; 
The  clouds  may  fly 
Through  the  deep  blue  A 
The  Bowers  may  droop,  and  the  brooklet  sigh, 

h'-wr  a  fig  cares  he. 
1I<-  whistl<  r  and  merry  tune 

By  '  light  of  the  Bilver  moon. 

All  through  tin*  lengthened  autumn  night, 

he. 


60  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

There's  a  tiny  cricket  within  thy  heart, 

And  a  pleasant  song  sings  he ; 
He  sings  of  the  mercies  and  goodness  of  God 

That  hourly  fall  upon  thee. 
Let  him  whistle  loud  and  clear, 
Never  drown  him  in  a  tear ; 
There's  darkness  enough  on  earth,  I  trow, 
Without  the  gloom  of  a  gloomy  brow ; 
Darkness  enough  in  the  home  of  the  poor, 
That  never  comes  to  thy  lofty  door. 

Forth  with  a  smile, 

Their  woe  to  beguile  ; 
Forth  to  lighten  the  heavy  gloom, 
Forth  to  brighten  the  clouded  home ; 
Cheer  up  the  soul  that  is  shrouded  in  night ; 

Tell  it  in  tones  of  love, 
Of  hope  on  earth,  and  a  land  all  bright — 
The  land  of  Life  and  Love. 

And  never  fret, 

That  you  cannot  get 
Just  what  you  want  while  you  travel  here. 
This  is  not  your  lasting  sphere ; 

Trials,  vexations, 

Are  but  temptations ; 
Use  them  aright ;  and  they'll  help  you  along 

In  the  narrow  road 

Thatjeads  to  God. 
Use  them  aright,  and  they'll  help  you  along. 

Never  fret, 

You'll  conquer  yet. 


iirwv   ukai  01 

Then  let  him  whistle  load  and  deer* 
B       r  drown  Um  in  i  tear, 

Rut  all  through  the  Length  of  trouble's  night, 
Lei  him  Bing  his  merry  song. 

IIadassah. 


CHRISTIAN  CALMNESS  DISTURBED. 

Wl  walked  by  the  side  of  the  tranquil  stream 
I  the  sain  had  tinged  by  his  parting  beam  ; 

The  water  was  still,  and  so  crystal  clear, 
That  every  Bpray  had  its  image  there. 

And  every  reed  that  o'er  it  bowed. 
And  the  crimson  streak,  and  the  silver  cloud ; 
Ami  all  that  was  bright,  and  all  that  was  fair, 
And  all  that  -  reflected  there. 

Ami  I   it   was  like  t<>  the  chastened   1 

That  .  I  tO  a  holy  . 

Win  •    has  tamed  the  imj.a.-sinm 

-in  refleel 

that  la\ 
•    far  (m  i 

III!    nf  tie 

1   the  laml>e:i| 

I 


62  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

And  I  bade  them  mark,  how  an  idle  word, 
Too  lightly  said,  and  too  deeply  heard ; 
Or  a  harsh  reproof,  or  a  look  unkind, 
May  spoil  the  peace  of  the  heavenly  mind. 

Though  sweet  be  the  peace,  and  holy  the  calm, 
And  the  heavenly  beam  be  bright  and  warm, 
The  heart  that  it  gilds  is  all  as  weak 
As  the  wave  that  reflects  the  crimson  streak. 

You  cannot  impede  the  celestial  ray 
That  lights  the  dawn  of  eternal  day ; 
But  so  may  you  trouble  the  bosom  it  cheers, 
'Twill  cease  to  be  true  to  the  image  it  bears. 

Caroline  Fry. 


KINDNESS. 

As  stars  upon  the  tranquil  sea 

In  mimic  glory  shine, 
So  words  of  kindness  in  the  heart 

Reflect  the  source  divine ; 
Oh  then  be  kind,  whoe'er  thou  art, 

That  breathest  mortal  breath, 
And  it  shall  brighten  all  thy  life, 

And  sweeten  even  death. 

Carlos  L.  Stuart. 


FOR   HEAVY    HEARTS.  63 


THE  BELIEVER  AND  HIS  ECHO. 

Bel. — True  faith,  producing  love  to  God  and  man, 

Say,  Echo,  is  not  this  the  gospel  plan  ? 
Echo— "The  gospel  plan." 

Bel. — Must  I  my  faith  in  Jesus  constant  show, 

By  doing  good  to  all,  both  friend  and  foe? 
Echo—  "Both  friend  and  foe." 

Bel. — But  if  a  brother  hate  and  treat  me  ill, 

Must  I  return  him  good,  and  love  him  still? 
Echo — "Love  him  still." 

Bel. — If  he  my  failings  watches  to  reveal, 

Must  I  his  faults  as  carefully  conceal? 
Echo — "As  carefully  conceal." 

Bel. — But  if  my  name  and  character  he  tears, 
And  cruel  malice  too,  too  plain  appears, 
And  when  I  sorrow  and  affliction  know, 
He  loves  to  add  unto  my  cup  of  woe, — 
In  this  uncommon,  this  peculiar  case, 
Sweet  Echo,  say,  must  I  still  love  and  bless? 

Echo—"  Still  love  and  bless." 

Bel. — Whatever  usage  ill,  I  may  receive, 

Must  I  still  patient  be,  and  still  forgive  ? 
Echo — "Still  patient  be,  and  still  forgive." 


64  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Bel. — Why,  Echo,  how  is  this  ?     Thou  art,  sure,  a 

dove; 
Thy  voice  will  teach  me  nothing  else  but 

love? 
Echo — " Nothing  else  but  love." 

Bel. — Amen ;  with  all  my  heart,  then,  be  it  so  ; 
'Tis  all  delightful,  just,  and  good,  I  know, 
And  now  to  practice  I'll  directly  go. 
Echo—" Directly  go." 

Bel. — Things  being  thus,  then  let  who  will  object, 

My  gracious  God  me  surely  will  protect ! 
Echo — "  Surely  will  protect." 

Bel. — Henceforth  on  him  I'll  roll  my  every  care, 
And  both   my  friend  and  foe  embrace  in 
prayer ! 
Echo — " Embrace  in  prayer." 

Bel. — But   after   all   these   duties,  when   they're 
done, 
Must  I  in  point  of  merit  them  disown, 
And  trust  my  soul  on  Jesus's  blood  alone? 

Echo. — "On  Jesus's  blood  alone." 

Bel. — Echo,  enough!     Thy  counsel,  to  my  ear 

Is  sweeter  than  the  dew-drop's  tear; 

Thy  wise  instructive  lessons  please  me  well ; 

Till  next  we  meet  again,  farewell !  farewell ! 

Echo—"  Farewell  I  farewell!" 

Anon 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  65 


"AM  I  MY  BROTHER'S  KEEPER?" 

Must  I  my  brother  keep, 
And  share  his  pain  and  toil? 

And  weep  with  those  that  weep, 
And  smile  with  those  that  smile, 

And  act  to  each  a  brother's  part, 

And  feel  his  sorrows  in  my  heart  ? 

Must  I  his  burden  bear, 
As  though  it  were  my  own ; 

And  do  as  I  would  care 
Should  to  myself  be  done  ; 

And  faithful  to  his  int'rests  prove, 

And,  as  myself,  my  neighbour  love  ? 

Must  I  reprove  his  sin  ? 

Must  I  partake  his  grief, 
And  kindly  enter  in, 

And  minister  relief — 
The  naked  clothe,  the  hungry  feed, 
And  love  him,  not  in  word,  but  deed  ? 

Then  Jesus,  at  thy  feet 

A  student  let  me  be ; 
And  learn,  as  it  is  meet, 

My  duty,  Lord,  of  thee : 
For  thou  didst  come  on  mercy's  plan, 
And  all  thy  life  was  love  to  man  ! 
6  * 


66  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Oh  make  me  as  Thou  art, 

Thy  Spirit,  Lord,  bestow — 
The  kind  and  gentle  heart 

That  feels  another's  woe ; 
And  thus  I  may  be  like  my  Head, 
And  in  my  Saviour's  footsteps  tread. 

Rev.  Dr.  Raffles. 


LITTLE  CHILDREN. 


Speak  gently  to  the  little  child, 

So  guileless  and  so  free, 
Who,  with  a  trustful,  loving  heart, 

Puts  confidence  in  thee. 
Speak  not  the  cold  and  careless  thoughts 

Which  time  has  taught  thee  well, 
Nor  breathe  one  word,  whose  bitter  tone 

Distrust  might  seem  to  tell. 

If  on  his  brow  there  rests  a  cloud, 

However  light  it  be, 
Speak  loving  words,  and  let  him  feel 

He  has  a  friend  in  thee. 
And  do  not  send  him  from  thy  side, 

Till  on  his  face  shall  rest, 
The  joyous  look,  the  sunny  smile, 

That  mark  a  happy  breast. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS.  67 

Oh  !  teach  him,  this  should  be  his  aim, — 

To  cheer  the  aching  heart, 
To  strive,  where  thickest  darkness  reigns, 

Some  radiance  to  impart ; 
To  spread  a  peaceful,  quiet  calm, 

Where  dwells  the  noise  of  strife, 
Thus  doing  good,  and  blessing  all, 

To  spend  the  whole  of  life. 

To  love,  with  pure  affection  deep, 
All  creatures,  great  and  small, 
And  still  a  stronger  love  to  bear 
For  Him,  who  made  them  all. 
Remember,  'tis  no  common  task 

That  thus  to  thee  is  given, 
To  rear  a  spirit  fit  to  be 
The  inhabitant  of  heaven. 

Maria  Koseau. 


THE  RIGHT  MUST  WIN. 

Oh  !  it  is  hard  to  work  for  God, 
To  rise  and  take  his  part, 

Upon  this  battle-field  of  earth, 
And  not  sometimes  lose  heart. 

He  hides  himself  so  wondrously, 
As  though  there  were  no  God ; 

He  is  least  seen  when  all  the  powers 
Of  ill  are  most  abroad. 


68  HEAVENLY  HYMNS 

Or  He  deserts  us  at  the  hour 

The  fight  is  almost  lost : 
And  seems  to  leave  us  to  ourselves 

Just  when  we  need  Him  most. 

Ill  masters  good :  good  seems  to  change 

To  ill  with  greatest  ease ; 
And,  worst  of  all,  the  good  with  good 

Is  at  cross  purposes. 

It  is  not  so,  but  so  it  looks ; 

And  we  lose  courage  then  ; 
And  doubts  will  come,  *if  God  hath  kept 

His  promises  to  men. 

Ah  !  God  is  other  than  we  think  ; 

His  ways  are  far  above, 
Far  above  reason's  height,  and  reached 

Only  by  childlike  love. 

The  look,  the  fashion  of  God's  ways, 
Love's  life-long  study  are; 

She  can  be  bold,  and  guess,  and  act, 
When  reason  would  not  dare. 

She  has  a  prudence  of  her  own ; 

Her  step  is  firm  and  free ; 
Yet  there  is  cautious  science,  too, 

In  her  simplicity. 

Workman  of  God  !  oh,  lose  not  heart, 
But  learn  what  God  is  like ; 


FOR   HEAVY   HBABT8.  b! 

And  in  the  darkest  battle-field, 
Thou  shalt  know  where  to  strike. 

Oh,  blessed  is  he  to  whom  is  given, 

The  instinct  that  can  tell 
That  God  is  on  the  field,  when  He 

Is  most  invisible. 

And  blessed  is  he  who  can  divine 

Where  real  right  doth  lie, 
And  dares  to  take  the  side  that  seems 

Wrong  to  man's  blindfold  eye  ! 

Oh,  learn  to  scorn  the  praise  of  men  ! 

Oh,  learn  to  love  with  God ! 
For  Jesus  won  the  world  through  shame, 

And  beckons  thee  his  road. 

God's  glory  is  a  wondrous  thing, — 

Most  strange  in  all  its  ways, 
And,  of  all  things  on  earth,  least  like 

What  men  agree  to  praise. 

Muse  on  his  justice,  downcast  soul ! 

Muse  and  take  better  heart ; 
Back  with  thine  angel  to  the  field ; 

Success  shall  crown  thy  part ! 

God's  justice  is  a  bed,  where  we 

Our  anxious  hearts  may  lay, 
And,  weary  with  ourselves,  may  sleep 

Our  discontent  away. 

Frederick  Faber. 


70  HEAVENLY  HYMNS 

PRAY  FOR  THOSE  THOU  LOVEST. 

"  Pray  for  those  thou  lovest — thou  wilt  never  have  any  com- 
fort of  his  friendship  for  whom  thou  dost  not  pray." 

Yes,  pray  for  those  thou  lovest — thou  may'st  vain- 
ly, idly  seek 

The  fervid  words  of  tenderness,  by  feeble  words, 
to  speak ; 

Go,  kneel  before  thy  Father's  throne,  and  meekly, 
humbly  there 

Ask  blessings  for  the  loved  one,  in  the  silent  hour 
of  prayer. 

Yes,  pray  for  those  thou  lovest ;  if  unaccounted 

wealth  were  thine, 
The  treasures  of  the  boundless  deep,  the  riches  of 

the  mine, 
Thou  could' st  not  to  thy  cherished  friend  so  dear  a 

gift  impart 
As  the  earnest  benediction  of  a  deeply  loving  heart. 

Seek  not  the  worldling's  friendship,  it  shall  droop 
and  wane  ere  long, 

In  the  cold  and  heartless  glitter  of  the  pleasure- 
loving  throng ; 

But  seek  the  friend  who,  when  thy  prayer  for  him 
shall  murmured  be, 

Breathes  forth,  in  faithful  sympathy,  a  fervent 
prayer  for  thee. 


for    tifwv   KBAET8.  71 

And  should  thy  flowery  path  of  life  beoome  a  path 

of  pain. 
The  friendship   formed   in   bonds  like  these,   thy 

spirit  shall  sustain  ; 
Years  may  not  chill,  nor  change  invade,  nor  poverty 

impair, 
The  love  that  grew  and  flourished  at  the  holy  time 

of  prayer. 

Mrs.  Addt. 


CLOUD  OR  SUN. 


He  sendeth  sun,  he  sendeth  shower, 
Alike  they're  needful  to  the  flower ; 
And  joys  and  tears  alike  are  sent 
To  give  the  soul  fit  nourishment. 
As  comes  to  me  or  cloud  or  sun, 
Father  !  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done. 

Can  loving  children  e'er  reprove 

With  murmurs  whom  they  trust  and  love? 

utor,  I  would  ever  be 
A  trusting,  loving  child  to  thee; 
A-  comes  to  me  or  cloud  or  mid, 
Father  !  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done. 

Oh,  ne'er  will  I  at  life  repine  : — 
Enough  that  thou  liast  made  it  mine. 


72  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Where  falls  the  shadow  cold  of  death, 
I  yet  will  sing  with  parting  breath — 
As  comes  to  me  or  shade  or  sun, 
Father !  thy  will,  not  mine,  be  done. 

Mrs.  Sarah  F.  Adams. 


SECRET  GRIEF. 

"The  heart  knoweth  his  own  bitterness. "  Prov.  xiv.  10. 

A  STRANGE  power  hath  the  human  heart, 

By  heaven  in  mercy  given, 
Strength  to  perform  its  wonted  part, 

While  silently  'tis  riven ; 
To  smile  e'en  while  each  tender  string 

Is  broken  one  by  one ; 
Hope  to  the  fainting  breast  to  bring 

While  in  its  own  lives  none. 

To  sit  beside  the  sufferer's  bed, 

And  dry  the  falling  tear, 
To  gently  hold  the  sinking  head, 

And  chase  away  each  fear  ; 
To  gaze  upon  the  trembling  form, 

Till  the  lone  heart  seems  broken, 
And  yet  amid  the  fearful  storm 

To  give  of  grief  no  token. 


wv    m:\. 

To  hear  thai  roioe,  whose  Blighl 
Em 

b  moan 
listening  etc  drinkfl  in  : 
•  still  onmoyed,  n ith  placid  bitr 
thai  languid 
-how  the  parting  spirit  now 
Hon  gladlj  die, 

but,  within  the  blighted  heart, 

y  and  si 
And  meekly  bear  our  destined  part 
Amid  tl  of  life, 

around  our  own  loyed  throng, 
The  gloom  that  reigneth  there; 
To  cheek  the  smile,  the  cheerful  bo 

To  cloud  this  world  so  fair. 

Bui  -ul  eniii, 1  neyer  bear 

is  weight  of  silent  gri 
Did 

kindly  bring  relief; 

who,  to  svmpathi. 

path  of  sorrow  trod  ; 
<  hie  to  Bufferii 

'Tm  thine,  0  Son  of  Oodl 

bind  the  bit  i  irt, 

To  calm  the  troubled  br< 


74  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

To  point  beyond  this  world  of  pain, 

To  that  bright  home  above, 
Where  those  who  part  may  meet  again, 

Joined  in  unfading  love. 

Mrs.  Martha  Canfield. 


I  AM  WEARY. 


I  AM  weary  of  straying — oh  fain  would  I  rest 
In  the  far-distant  land  of  the  pure  and  the  blest, 
Where  sin  can  no  longer  her  blandishments  spread, 
And  tears  and  temptations  for  ever  are  fled. 

I  am  weary  of  hoping,  where  hope  is  untrue, 
As  fair,  but  as  fleeting,  as  morning's  bright  dew. 
I  long  for  that  land  whose  blest  promise  alone 
Is  changeless  and  sure  as  eternity's  throne. 

I  am  weary  of  sighing  o'er  sorrows  of  earth, 
O'er  joy's  gloomy  visions,  that  fade  at  their  birth — 
O'er  the  pangs  of  the  loved,  which  we  cannot  as- 
suage, 
O'er  the  blightings  of  youth,  and  the  weakness  of 
age. 

I  am  weary  of  loving  what  passes  away — 
The  sweetest,  the  dearest,  alas  !  may  not  stay; 
I  long  for  that  land  where  those  partings  are  o'er, 
And  death  and  the  tomb  can  divide  hearts  no  more. 


FOB    IIKAVY    HEARTS.  75 

I  am  weary,  my  Saviour,  of  grieving  thy  love; 

Oh,  when  shall  I  rest  in  thy  presence  above  ? 

I  am  wearv,  but  oh,  never  let  me  repine, 

While  thy  word,  and  thy  love,  and  thy  promise  are 

mine. 

Anon. 


OH  !  FOR  THE  HAPPY  DAYS  GONE  BY. 

On !  for  the  happy  days  gone  by, 
When  love  ran  smooth  and  free , 

Days  when  my  spirit  so  enjoyed 
More  than  earth's  liberty  ! 

Oh  !  for  the  times  when  on  my  heart 
Long  prayer  had  never  palled, 

Times  when  the  ready  thought  of  God 
Would  come  when  it  was  called  ? 

Then  when  I  knelt  to  meditate, 
Sweet  thoughts  came  o'er  my  soul, 

Countless,  and  bright,  and  beautiful, 
Beyond  my  own  control. 

Oh  !  who  hath  locked  those  fountains  up  ? 

Those  visions  who  hath  stayed? 
What  sadden  act  hath  thus  transformed 

My  sunshine  into  shade  ? 


76  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

This  freezing  heart,  0  Lord  !  this  will 

Dry  as  the  desert  sand — 
Good  thoughts  that  will  not  come,  bad  thoughts 

That  come  without  command — 

A  faith  that  seems  not  faith,  a  hope 

That  cares  not  for  its  aim, — 
A  love  that  none  the  hotter  grows 

At  Jesus's  blessed  name 

The  weariness  of  prayer,  the  mist 

O'er  conscience  overspread — 
The  chill  repugnance  to  frequent 

The  feast  of  angel's  bread : 

If  this  drear  change  be  thine,  0  Lord ! 

If  it  be  Thy  sweet  will, 
Spare  not,  but  to  the  very  brim 

The  bitter  chalice  fill ; 

But  if  it  hath  been  sin  of  mine, 

Oh !  show  that  sin  to  me — 
Not  to  get  back  the  sweetness  lost, 

But  to  make  peace  with  Thee. 

One  thing,  alone,  dear  Lord,  I  dread : 

To  have  a  secret  spot 
That  separates  my  soul  from  Thee, 

And  yet  to  know  it  not. 

Oh !  when  the  tide  of  graces  set 
So  full  upon  my  heart, 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  77 

I  know,  dear  Lord,  how  faithlessly 
1  did  niy  little  part. 

I  know  how  well  my  heart  hath  earned 

A  chastisement  like  this, 
In  trifling  many  a  grace  away 

In  self-complacent  bliss. 

But  if  this  weariness  hath  come 

A  present  from  on  high, 
Teach  me  to  find  the  hidden  wealth 

That  in  its  depths  may  lie  ; 

So  in  this  darkness  I  can  learn 

To  tremble  and  adore, 
To  sound  my  own  vile  nothingness, 

And  thus  to  love  Thee  more  ; 

To  love  Thee,  and  yet  not  to  think 

That  I  can  love  so  much ; 
To  have  Thee  with  me,  Lord  !  all  day 

Yet  not  to  feel  Thy  touch. 

If  I  have  served  Thee,  Lord,  for  hire, 
Hire  which  Thy  beauty  showed  ; — 

Ah !  I  can  serve  Thee  now  for  nought 
And  only  as  my  God ! 

Oh  !  blessed  be  this  darkness  then, 

This  deep  in  which  I  lie, 
And  blessed  be  all  things  that  teach 

God's  dread  supremacy! 

Frederick  Faber. 
7  * 


78  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

THE  WILL  OF  GOD. 

I  wokship  Thee,  sweet  will  of  God  ! 

And  all  thy  ways  adore, 
And  every  day  I  live,  I  seem 

To  love  Thee  more  and  more, 

Thou  wert  the  end,  the  blessed  rule 
Of  Jesus's  toils  and  tears  ; 

Thou  wert  the  passion  of  his  heart, 
Those  three-and-thirty  years. 

And,  he  hath  breathed  into  my  soul, 

A  special  love  of  Thee, 
A  love  to  lose  my  will  in  his, 

And  by  that  loss  be  free. 

I  love  to  see  Thee  bring  to  nought 

The  plans  of  wily  men  ; 
When  simple  hearts  outwit  the  wise, 

Oh  thou  art  loveliest  then  ! 

The  headstrong  world,  it  presses  hard 
Upon  the  church  full  oft ; 

And  then  how  easily  thou  turn'st 
The  hard  ways  into  soft. 

I  love  to  kiss  each  print  where  thou 
Hast  set  thine  unseen  feet ; 

I  cannot  fear  thee,  blessed  will ! 
Thine  empire  is  so  sweet. 


When  obstacle*  and  trials  boom 

Like  prison  walls  to  be, 
T  do  the  little  I  can  do, 

And  leave  the  rest  to  tie 

I  know  not  what  it  is  bo  donbt ; 

My  heart  is  ever  Lra y  ; 
I  run  no  risk,  for,  come  what  will, 

Thou  always  hast  thy  way. 

I  ha  d  will ! 

r  all  my  cares  are  thine ; 

I  live  in  triumph,  Lord,  for  thou 
Hast  made  thy  triumphs  mine. 

And  when  it  seems  no  chance  nor  change 

From  grief  can  set  me  free, 
Hope  finds  its  strength  in  helplessii 

And  gaily  waits  on  thee. 

Man's  weakness,  waiting  upon  God, 

Its  end  iss, 

For  men  on  earth  no  work  can  do 

More  angel-like  than  this. 

Ride  on,  ride  on  triumphantly, 
Thou  glorious  will !  ride  on  ; 
Faith's  pilgrim  Bons  behind  thee  take 

The  road  that  thou  h 

If- 

To  him  no  chance  is  lost; 


80  HEAVENLY  HYMNS 

God's  will  is  sweetest  to  him  when 
It  triumphs  at  his  cost. 

Ill  that  he  blesses  is  our  good, 

And  unblest  good  is  ill, 
And  all  is  right  that  seems  most  wrong, 

If  it  be  his  sweet  will ! 

Frederick  Faber. 


USE  ME. 

Make  use  of  me,  my  God  ! 

Let  me  not  be  forgot ; 
A  broken  vessel  cast  aside — 

One  whom  thou  needest  not. 

I  am  thy  creature,  Lord, 
And  made  by  hands  divine ; 

And  I  am  part,  however  mean, 
Of  this  great  world  of  thine. 

Thou  usest  all  thy  works — 
The  weakest  things  that  be ; 

Each  has  a  service  of  its  own, 
For  all  things  wait  on  Thee. 

Thou  usest  the  high  stars, 
The  tiny  drops  of  dew, 


N 
i  k,  ind  little  bill ; 

TIk'U 

Tl  I  IBl  ind  Small  : 

be  little  l»ir<l 
pon  the  iralL 

The  little  bidden  la] 

upon  the  Alpine  cliff, 
lily  in  the  h; 

niuniiur  <>t'  : 

All  thingi  <1  — 

■  itures,  Lrre;it  and  Bmall  ; 

bem  all. 

a  Boxar. 


:ht 
Comes  t  r, — 


82  _  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Nearer  my  Father's  house, 
Where  the  many  mansions  be, 

Nearer  the  great  white  throne, 
Nearer  the  jasper  sea. 

Nearer  the  bound  of  life, 

Where  we  lay  our  burdens  down, 
Nearer  leaving  the  cross, — 

Nearer  wearing  the  crown. 

But  lying,  darkly  between, 

Winding  down  through  the  night, 

To  the  dim  and  unknown  stream, 
That  leads  me  at  last  to  the  light. 

Close,  closer  my  steps 
Come  to  the  dark  abysm, 

Closer,  death  to  my  lips 
Presses  the  awful  chrysm. 

Saviour,  perfect  my  trust, 

Strengthen  the  might  of  my  faith, 
Let  me  feel  as  I  would  when  I  stand 

On  the  rock  of  the  shore  of  death. 

Feel  as  I  would  when  my  feet, 
Are  slipping  over  the  brink ; 

For,  it  may  be,  I'm  nearer  home, — 
Nearer  now  than  I  think. 


Caret. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  83 


YONDER. 

No  shadows  yonder ! 

All  light  and  song ; 
Each  day  I  wonder, 

And  say  how  long 
Shall  time  me  sunder 

From  that  dear  throng  ? 

No  weeping  yonder  ! 

All  fled  away ; 
While  here  I  wander 

Each  weary  day, 
And  sigh  as  I  ponder, 

My  long,  long  stay. 

No  partings  yonder  ! 

Time  and  space  never 
Again  shall  sunder ; 

Hearts  cannot  sever ; 
Dearer  and  fonder, 

Hands  clasp  for  ever. 

None  wanting,  yonder  ! 

Bought  by  the  Lamb ! 
All  gathered  under 

The  evergreen  palm ; 
Loud  as  night's  thunder 

Ascends  the  glad  psalm. 

HORATIUB  BONAB. 


84  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


DISTRACTIONS  IN  PRAYER. 

Oh  !  dearest  Lord,  I  cannot  pray, 

My  fancy  is  not  free ; 
Unmannerly  distractions  come, 

And  force  my  thoughts  from  thee. 

The  world,  that  looks  so  dull  all  day, 
Grows  bright  on  me  at  prayer, 

And  plans  that  ask  no  thought  but  then, 
Wake  up  and  meet  me  there. 

All  nature  one  full  fountain  seems 

Of  dreamy  sight  and  sound, 
Which,  when  I  kneel,  breaks  up  its  deep, 

And  makes  a  deluge  round. 

Old  voices  murmur  in  my  ear, 

New  hopes  start  into  life, 
And  past  and  future  gaily  blend 

In  one  bewitching  strife. 

My  very  flesh  has  restless  fits ; 

My  changeful  limbs  conspire 
With  all  these  phantoms  of  the  mind 

My  inner  self  to  tire. 

I  cannot  pray  ;  yet,  Lord  !  thou  knowest 

The  pain  it  is  to  me 
To  have  my  vainly-struggling  thoughts 

Thus  torn  away  from  thee. 


Km;    ii  i:\vv   in:.\!  85 

Ali,  Jesus  !  teach  me  hoi?  to  prise 

These  tedious  hoars  when  I, 
Foolish  and  mute  before  thy  fa 

In  helpless  worship  lie. 

Prayer  was  not  meant  for  luxury, 
( )r  selfish  pastime  sn  i 

It  is  the  prostrate  ereature's  place 
At  his  Creator's  feet. 

Had  I  kept  stricter  watch  each  hour, 
O'er  tongue,  and  eye,  and  car. 

Had  I  but  mortified  all  day- 
Each  joy  as  it  came  near, — 

Had  I,  dear  Lord  !  no  pleasure  found 

But  in  the  thought  of  thee, 
Prayer  would  have  come  unsought,  and  been 

A  truer  liberty. 

Yet  thou  art  oft  most  present.  Lord! 

In  weak  distracted  prayer  ; 
A  sinner  out  of  heart  with  self, 

Most  often  finds  thee  th  • 

And  prayer  that  humfa  the  bou! 

From  all  illusion 

it  how  utterly, 
ird  !  it  hangs  on  thee. 

-Mid.  tli.it  on  ifice 

[s  001  etom  ly  bent, 


86  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Will  bless  thy  chastening  hand  that  makes 
Its  prayer  its  punishment. 

Ah,  Jesus  !  why  should  I  complain  ? 

And  why  fear  aught  but  sin  ? 
Distractions  are  but  outward  things ; 

Thy  peace  dwells  far  within  ! 

These  surface  troubles  come  and  go, 

Like  rufflings  of  the  sea ; 
The  deeper  depth  is  out  of  sight 

To  all,  my  God,  but  Thee ! 

Frederick  Faber. 


IN  THE  FIELD. 


Fighting  the  battle  of  Life  ! — 
With  a  weary  heart  and  head ; 

For  in  the  midst  of  the  strife 
The  banners  of  Joy  are  fled. 

Fled  and  gone  out  of  sight, 

When  I  thought  they  were  so  near 
And  the  music  of  Hope,  this  night, 

Is  dying  away  on  my  ear. 

Fighting  the  whole  day  long, 
With  a  very  tired  hand, — 


FOB    HEAVY   SI  LRTS.  87 

With  only  my  armour  strong — 
The  shelter  in  which  I  Btand. 

There  is  nothing  left  of  me, — 
If  all  my  Btrength  were  shown, 

So  small  the  amount  would  be, 

Its  presence  could  scarce  be  known. 

Fighting  alone  to-night, — 

With  not  even  a  stander-by, 
To  cheer  rne  on  in  the  fight, 

Or  to  hear  me  when  I  cry. 

Only  the  Lord  can  hear, 

Only  the  Lord  can  see 
The  struggle  within  how  dark  and  drear, 

Though  quiet  the  outside  be. 

Fighting  alone  to-night 

With  what  a  fainting  heart ! 
Lord  Jesus,  in  the  fight 

Oh  !  stand  not  thou  apart. 

Body  ami  mind  have  tried 

To  make  the  field  my  own, 
But  when  the  Lord  is  on  my  side, 

lie  doth  the  work  alone. 

And  when  he  hideth  his  fa 

And  the  battle-clouds  prevail, 
It  i>  only  through  his  gi 
If  I  do  not  utterly  fail. 


5  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

The  word  of  old  was  true, 

And  its  truth  shall  never  cease, — 
"The  Lord  shall  fight  for  you, 

And  ye  shall  hold  your  peace." 

Lord!  I  would  fain  be  still 

And  quiet  behind  my  shield, 
But  make  me  to  love  thy  wTill, 

For  fear  I  should  ever  yield  ! 

For  when  to  destroy  my  foes, 
Thou  lettest  them  strike  at  me, 

And  fillest  my  heart  with  woes, 
That  joy  may  the  purer  be. 

Even  as  now  my  hands, 

So  doth  my  folded  will, 
Lie  waiting  thy  commands, 

Without  one  anxious  thrill. 

But,  as  with  sudden  pain, 

My  hands  unclasp  and  fold, 
So  doth  my  will  start  up  again, 

And  take  its  old  firm  hold. 

Lord,  fix  my  eyes  upon  thee ! 

And  fill  my  heart  with  thy  love, 
And  keep  my  soul  till  the  shadows  flee, 

And  light  breaks  forth  from  above. 

Anon. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  89 


WEARY ! 


My  feet  are  worn  and  weary  with  the  march 
Over  the  road,  and  up  the  steep  hill-side ; 

Oh !   City  of  our  God,  I  fain  would  see 

Thy  pastures  green,  where  peaceful  waters  glide. 

My  hands  are  weary  toiling,  toiling  on 

Day  after  day  for  perishable  meat ; 
Oh  i   City  of  our  God,  I  fain  would  rest — 

I  sigh  to  gain  thy  glorious  mercy-seat. 

My  garments,  travel-worn,  and  stained  with  dust, 
Oft  rent  by  briars,  and  thorns  that  crowd  my  way, 

Would  fain  be  made,  0  Lord,  my  righteousness, 
Spotless  and  white  in  heaven's  unclouded  day. 

My  heart  is  weary  of  its  own  deep  sin, — 
Sinning,  repenting,  sinning  still  again ; 

When  shall  my  soul  thy  glorious  presence  feel, 
And  find,  dear  Saviour,  it  is  free  from  stain  ? 

Patience,  poor  soul !  the  Saviour's  feet  were  worn; 

The  Saviour's  heart  and  hands  were  weary  too, 
His  garments  stained,  and  travel-worn,  and  old, 

His  vision  blinded  with  a  pitying  dew. 

Love  thou  the  path  of  sorrow  that  he  trod ; 

Toil  on,  and  wait  in  patience  for  thy  rest ! 
Oh!  City  of  our  God,  we  soon  shall  see 

Thy  glorious  walls, — home  often  loved  and  blest ! 

S.  Roberts. 


90  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


NOW  THE  CRUCIBLE  IS  BREAKING, 

Now  the  crucible  is  breaking, 
Faith  its  perfect  seal  is  taking, 

Like  the  gold  in  furnace  tried ; 
Through  the  test  of  sharp  distresses 
Those  whom  heaven  most  richly  blesses, 

For  its  joys  are  purified. 

Trial,  when  it  weighs  severely, 
Stamps  the  Saviour's  image  clearly 

On  the  heart  of  all  his  friends ; 
In  the  frame  his  hands  have  moulded 
Is  a  future  life  unfolded, 

Through  the  suffering  which  he  sends. 

Suffering  curbs  our  wayward  passions, 
Childlike  tempers  in  us  fashions, 

And  our  will  to  his  subdues : 
Thus  his  hand,  so  soft  and  healing, 
Each  disordered  power  and  feeling, 

By  a  blessed  change  renews. 

Suffering  keeps  the  thoughts  compacted, 
That  the  soul  be  not  distracted 

By  the  world's  beguiling  art. 
'Tis  like  some  angelic  warder, 
Ever  keeping  sacred  order 

In  the  chambers  of  the  heart. 


FOR   HEAVY    HEARTS.  91 

Suffering  tunes  the  heart's  emotion 
To  eternity's  devotion ; 

And  awakes  a  fond  desire 
For  the  land  where  psalms  are  ringing 
And  with  palms  the  martyrs  singing, 

Sweetly  to  the  harper's  choir. 

Suffering  gives  our  faith  assurance, 
Makes  us  patient  in  endurance. 

Suffering  !  who  is  worth  thy  pains  ? 
Here  they  call  thee  only  torment — 
There  they  call  thee  a  preferment, 

Which  not  every  one  attains. 

Brethren  !  grace  which  thus  assuages 
Suffering,  is  through  diverse  stages 

Reached  by  true  disciples  here ; 
While  they're  pierced  by  sharpest  anguish, 
While  in  many  a  death  they  languish, 

Watch  through  many  a  night  of  fear. 

Though  in  health,  with  powers  unwasted, 
And  with  willing  hearts  we  hasted 

To  take  up  our  Saviour's  cross ; 
If  through  trial,  our  good  Master 
Should  refine  these  powers  the  faster, 

What  good  Christian  counts  it  loss  ? 

In  the  depths  of  its  distresses, 
Each  true  heart  the  closer  pre- 


92  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

To  His  heart  with  ardent  love ; 
Ever  longing,  ever  crying, 
Oh  !  conform  me  to  thy  dying 

That  I  live  with  thee  above ! 

Sighs  and  tears  at  last  are  over ; 
Breaking  through  its  fleshy  cover, 

Soars  the  soul  to  light  away. 
Who,  while  here  below,  can  measure 
That  deep  sea  of  heavenly  pleasure, 

Spreading  there,  so  bright  for  aye  ? 

Day  by  day,  0  Jesus  !  nearer, 
Show  that  bliss  to  me,  and  clearer, 

Till  my  latest  hour  I  see. 
Then,  my  weary  striving  ended, 
May  my  spirit  be  attended, 

By  bright  angels,  home  to  thee  ! 

Hartman. 


ALONE. 

Alone  !  ah  me,  that  word  alone, 

How  many  a  heart  has  breathed  it  low, 

With  tremulous  despairing  tone, 

And  grief  that  none  but  God  may  know. 

No  eye  may  see  the  looming  cloud, 

That  settles  dark  o'er  girlhood's  morn, 


!ii:\vv   I  !•:] 

my  shroud, 
[folding  !  rn. 

And  yet,  perchance,  a  pal]  of  dust 
And  ashes  o'er  that  form  is  Bpread  ; 
irt  had  learned  to  bra 
.  now  be  n  ttfa  the  dreamless  dead* 

bark  of  life  may  Beem  to  Bail 
ihn  and  wav< 
And  lightly  bound  before  I 

I  'oudly,  firm  and  E 

thai  little  bark  may  be 
The  weary,  'biding  place  of  grief — 
Of  brooding  woe  and  misery 

That  vainly  Ji  relief. 

any  bleeding  chorda 
Will  tremble  at  the  Lightest  touch) 
And  filtrate  long  to  whispered  woi 

and  !<>vii  lirh. 

>ld,  harsh  word,  a] 

I I  '    If  the  life-blood  'round  the  heai 

When  hitter,  blinding  tear-dr* 

in  the  world  alo 
With  98  millions  tin 


94  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

But  oh  !  in  Sorrow's  darkest  hour, 
"  Our  Father"  every  storm  can  calm, 

The  winds  and  waves  obey  his  power, 
And  He  will  pour  a  healing  balm. 

Upon  the  troubled,  restless  soul, 

If  unto  Him  in  faith  we  go  ; 
Yielding  our  all  to  His  control, 

He'll  stay  the  rushing  tide  of  woe. 

Oh  then,  what  though  our  course  may  lie 

Across  an  angry,  rolling  sea ; 
What  though,  at  times  our  earthly  sky, 

Obscured  by  threatening  clouds  may  be. 

What  though  in  sorrow  no  fond  tone 
Of  human  love  should  greet  the  ear ; 

We  are  not,  cannot  be  alone. 
Our  Father,  God,  is  ever  near. 

Sophronia. 


THE  PRAYER  ANSWERED,  THE  REQUEST  DENIED. 

I  thought  'twas  Thine  to  give  me,  and  I  craved 
One  blessing  more  than  all  on  earth  beside ; 
I  asked  it  often,  and  I  asked  it  long, 
It  was  not  sin,  and  yet  it  was  denied. 

Didst  Thou  not  hear  the  still  repeated  prayer  ? 
Prayed  I  amiss,  as  if  the  due  were  mine  ? 


fOl    H1AVWTLT    im:\i 

Nor,  -imply  resting  on  Thy  love,  exclaimed, 
Fulfil  Thy  promise,  Lord,  For  I  am  Thine 

Ah!  foolish.  He,  who,  from  the  ocean's  depth, 
Through    roaring    waters,    heard    the    proph< 

prayer, 
Who  marks  the  first  faint  breathing  of  d< 
Can  never  deafen  his  paternal  ear. 

He  heard  me,  yes,  he  listened,  and  he  heard, 
And  held  the  blessing  in  his  own  right  hand, 
Whatever  barred  me  from  the  good  I  Bought 

Had  sunk  to  nothing  at  lli>  sole  command. 

He  heard,  and  might  have  granted,  but  lie  marked 
The  secret  reservation  of  the  soul, 
The  wish  that  almost  to  itself  unknown. 
Forbade  the  prayer  that  on  the  accents  stole. 

lie  marked  the  feeling  that  himself  inspired. 
He  knew  the  heart  he  moulded,  and  he  knew. 
That  while  my  lips  the  warm  petition  breathed, 
1  did  not  wish  it.  if  he  wished  not  too. 

'Twafl  BO,  most  Merciful!    I  did  not 

I  loved  Thy  will  more  than  the  thi:  _ht. 

iked  an  earthly  good,  but  Thou  perceiv'dst 

thing  was  dearer,  though  1  .-aid  it  lmt. 

Tlmu  kne\s<->t   I  \\<>uld  not  have  it.  might  it  mar 

bo  which  my  hopes  aspire, 
And  mercy,  yielding  what  thy  wisdom  know, 
ied  the  pray<  \i  me  the  desire. 

An-xi. 


96  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


NEVER  MIND. 

Soul,  be  strong,  whate'er  betide, 
God  himself  is  guard  and  guide — 
With  my  Father  at  my  side, 

Never  mind ! 

Clouds  and  darkness  hover  near, 
Men's  hearts  failing  them  for  fear, 
But  be  thou  of  right  good  cheer, 

Never  mind ! 

Come  what  may,  some  work  is  done, 
Praise  the  Father  through  the  Son, 
Goals  are  gained  and  prizes  won, 

Never  mind ! 

And  if  now  the  skies  look  black, 
All  the  past  behind  my  back, 
Is  a  bright  and  blessed  track ; 

Never  mind  ! 

Stand  in  patient  courage  still, 
Working  out  thy  Master's  will, 
Compass  good,  and  conquer  ill ; 

Never  mind  ! 

Fight,  for  all  thy  bullying  boast, 
Dark  temptation's  evil  host, 
This  is  thy  predestined  post, 

Never  mind  ! 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  97 

Be,  then,  tranquil  as  a  dove; 
Through  these  thunder-clouds  above 
Shines  afar  the  heaven  of  love  ; 

Never  mind  ! 
Martin  Farquhar  Tupper. 


TRUST. 

"  My  times  are  in  thy  hand." 

Yet  will  I  trust !  in  all  my  fears, 
Thy  mercy,  gracious  Lord,  appears, 
To  guide  me  through  this  vale  of  tears, 
And  be  my  strength. 

Thy  mercy  guides  my  ebb  and  flow 
Of  health  and  joy,  or  pain  and  woe, 
To  wean  my  heart  from  all  below, 

To  Thee  at  length. 

Yes  !  welcome  pain  which  Thou  hast  sent, 
Yes — farewell  blessing  Thou  hast  lent, 
With  Thee  alone  I  rest  content, 

For  Thou  art  heaven. 

My  trust  reposes  safe  and  still, 
On  the  wise  goodness  of  Thy  will, 
Grateful  for  earthly  good  or  ill, 

Which  Thou  hast  given. 


98  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

0  blessed  friend  !  0  blissful  thought ! 
With  happiest  consolation  fraught — 
Trust  Thee  I  may,  I  will,  I  ought — 

To  doubt  were  sin. 

Martin  Farquhar  Tupper. 


THE  INNER  CALM. 


Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 
While  these  hot  breezes  blow, 

Be  like  the  night-dew's  cooling  balm 
Upon  earth's  fevered  brow. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm, 

Soft  resting  on  thy  breast, 
Soothe  me  with  holy  hymn  and  psalm, 

And  bid  my  spirit  rest. 

Calm  me,  my  God,  and  keep  me  calm  ; 

Let  thine  outstretching  wing 
Be  like  the  shade  of  Elim's  palm, 

Beside  her  desert  spring. 

Yes,  keep  me  calm,  though  loud  and  rude 
The  sounds  my  ear  that  greet ; 

Calm  in  the  closet's  solitude, 
Calm  in  the  bustling  street. 

Calm  in  the  hour  of  buoyant  health, 
Calm  in  my  hour  of  pain, 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  99 

Calm  in  my  poverty  or  wealth, 
Calm  in  my  loss  or  gain. 

Calm  in  the  sufferance  of  wrong, 

Like  Him  who  bore  my  shame, 
Calm  'mid  the  threat'ning,  taunting  throng, 

Who  hate  Thy  holy  name. 

Calm  when  the  great  world's  news  with  power 

My  listening  spirit  stir ; 
Let  not  the  tidings  of  the  hour 

E'er  find  too  fond  an  ear. 

Calm  as  the  ray  of  sun  or  star 

Which  storms  assail  in  vain, 
Moving,  unruffled,  through  earth's  war,. 

The  eternal  calm  to  gain. 

HORATITTS   BONAR. 


PROVIDENCE. 


Just  as  a  mother,  with  sweet  pious  face, 

Yearns  towards  her  little  children  from  her  seat, 

Gives  one  a  kiss,  another  an  embrace, 

Takes  this  upon  her  knee,  that  to  her  feet ; 

And  while   from    actions,   looks,    complaints,   pre- 
tences, 
She  learns  their  feelings,  and  their  various  will, 


100  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

To  this  a  look,  to  that  a  word  dispenses, 

And  whether  stern  or  smiling,  loves  them  still ; 
So  Providence,  for  us,  high,  infinite, 

Makes  our  necessities  its  watchful  task, 
Hearkens  to  all  our  prayers,  helps  all  our  wants, 

And  e'en  if  it  denies  what  seems  our  right, 
Either  denies  because  'twould  have  us  ask, 

Or  seems  but  to  deny,  or  in  denying  grants. 

Anon, 


CRAVING  FOR  REPOSE. 


But  to  be  still !  oh,  but  to  cease  awhile 
The  panting  breath,  and  hurrying  steps  of  life, 
The  sights,  the  sounds,  the  struggle,  and  the  strife 
Of  hourly  being  ;  the  sharp,  biting,  file 
Of  action,  pelting  on  the  tightened  chain 
Of  rough  existence  ;  all  that  is  not  pain, 
But  rather  weariness  !  oh  !  to  be  free, 
But  for  a  while  from  conscious  entity  ! 
To  shut  the  banging  doors  and  windows  wide 
Of  restless  sense,  and  let  the  soul  abide, 
Darkly,  and  stilly,  for  a  little  space, 
Gathering  its  strength  up  to  pursue  the  race ; 
Oh  !  but  to  rest  a  moment — but  to  rest 
From  this  quick,  gasping  life,  were  to  be  blest ! 

Fanny  Kemble. 


FOR    IIKAVV    ill!  \i:  101 


THE  IDLE  LYRE. 


ThbRI  was  an  idle  lyre 

'Mid  heaven's  choral  band, 
A  messenger  was  summoned 

To  hoar  his  Lord's  command — 
That  from  among  earth's  children 

Some  favoured  one  he'd  bring, 
Who  had  a  skilful  finger 

To  sweep  the  golden  string. 

Oh  !  high  and  holy  honour  ! 

Whose  shall  the  glory  be, 
To  make  a  music  fitting 

The  ear  of  Deity? 
What  mighty  minstrel  laurelled 

With  wreaths  which  fame  has  given, 
Shall  now  be  counted  worthy 

To  join  the  ranks  of  heaven  ? 

No  master-mind,  whose  spirit 

Might  lift  itself  to  hymn 
The  praise  of  the  Eternal 

With  burning  seraphim, — 
Nor  one  whose  life  had  lingered, 

Till  age  had  quenched  its  fire, 
Is  from  earth's  myriads  chosen 

To  touch  that  silent  lyre. 

A  little  child  was  playing 
B»  ride  his  mother's  knee, 

9* 


102  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Unconscious  of  the  honour 

That  was  his  destiny. 
The  angel  bent  above  him, 

And  breathed  the  low  command, 
And  ere  another  morning 

The  lyre  was  in  his  hand. 

Ah  !  is  the  mother  weeping, 

Because  her  baby  boy 
Is  tasting  purer  pleasure 

And  feeling  holier  joy, 
Than  she  could  ever  yield  him 

With  her  most  soothing  tone, 
While  yet  the  darling's  bosom 

Was  pillowed  on  her  own  ? 

We  know  that  she  will  miss  him — 

Unworn  his  garments  lie, 
And  every  way  she  turneth 

There's  something  meets  her  eye 
That  marks  his  painful  absence, 

And  from  his  vacant  bed, 
Like  Rachel  in  her  sorrow, 

She  turns  uncomforted. 

Mourns  she  that  he  is  taken 
Where  every  pain  is  o'er  ? 

Where  not  a  human  passion 
Shall  mar  his  quiet  more  ? 

Oh  !  could  she  hear  the  sweetness 
Of  his  angelic  strain, 


, 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  103 

Not  life's  best  gifts  would  tempt  her 
To  call  him  back  again  ! 

Though  transient  was  his  visit 

To  this  bleak  world  of  ours, 
The  pleasant  buds  of  promise 

Gave  pledge  of  early  flowers, 
Whose  perfect  bloom  we  only 

Can  see  when  it  is  given 
To  join,  as  kindred  spirits, 

The  choristry  of  heaven  ! 

Margaret  Junkin. 


THE  ALPINE  SHEEP. 


After  our  child's  untroubled  breath 
Up  to  the  Father  took  its  way, 

And  on  our  home  the  shade  of  death, 
Like  a  long  twilight,  haunting  lay  : 

And  friends  came  round,  with  us  to  weep 
Her  little  spirit's  swift  remove, 

This  story  of  the  Alpine  sheep 
Was  told  to  us,  by  one  we  love : — 

They  in  the  valley's  sheltering  care, 
Soon  crop  the  meadow's  tender  prime, 


104  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

And  when  the  sod  grows  brown  and  bare 
The  shepherd  strives  to  make  them  climb, 

To  airy  shelves  of  pasture  green 

That  hang  along  the  mountain's  side, 

Where  grass  and  flowers  together  lean, 

And  down  through  mist  the  sunbeams  slide. 

But  nought  can  tempt  the  timid  things 
That  steep  and  rugged  path  to  try, 

Though  sweet  the  shepherd  calls  and  sings, 
And  seared  below  the  pastures  lie : — 

Till  in  his  arms,  their  lambs  he  takes, 

Along  the  dizzy  verge  to  go, 
Then,  heedless  of  the  rifts  and  breaks, 

They  follow  on,  o'er  rock  and  snow. 

And  in  those  pastures  lifted  fair, 
More  dewy  soft  than  lowland  mead, 

The  shepherd  drops  his  tender  care, 
And  sheep  and  lambs  together  feed. 

This  parable,  by  nature  breathed, 
Blew  on  me  as  the  south  wind  free, 

O'er  frozen  brooks  that  float  unsheathed 
From  icy  thraldom  to  the  sea. 

A  blissful  vision,  through  the  night 
Would  all  my  happy  senses  sway, 

Of  the  good  Shepherd  on  the  height 
Or  climbing  up  the  stony  way, 


FOB    iii:\vv    DBA]  105 

Holding  <>ur  little  lamb  asleep : 

And,  like  tin-  burden  of  die  n 
Bounded  that  roioe  along  the  d- 
ying,  uAri$e  andfollov)  me." 

Jamba  Rusasll  Lowell. 


INTO  THE  LIGHT. 


I  CRY  for  peace,  0  God  ! 

Mv  soul  is  dark  as  night, 
I  feel  the  chastening  rod, 

But  cannot  see  the  light. 
I  know  Thou  art  not  far 

From  every  child  of  earth, 
But  sinful  passions  war 

Against  the  spirit's  birth. 

To  calmer,  holier  life, 

Oh  lend  me  of  Thy  strength, 
That  out  of  all  this  strife 

Peace  may  arise  at  length. 
I  fain  would  lo<»k  to  Thee, 

With  never-faltering  trust, 
But  Thou,  0  ( lod,  canst  - 

How  weak  is  this  poor  dust. 

Thou  knowest  .-til  my  sin — 
Low  at  Thy  foot  1  1: 


106  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Help  me  to  enter  in 
To  rest,  before  I  die. 

To  cast  this  veil  away, 
That  I  Thy  love  may  see ; 

In  deep  distress  I  pray, 

0  Father,  pity  me ! 

I  am  Thy  child ;  through  all 

This  fearful,  deepening  night 
I  bend  to  hear  Thy  call — 

1  wait  to  greet  the  light. 
The  morn  will  come  ;  e'en  now 

The  midnight  shadows  flee ; 
With  new-born  hope  I  bow — 
My  God,  I  trust  in  Thee. 


PRAYER  FOR  MERCY. 

Throw  away  thy  rod, 
Throw  away  thy  wrath! 

0  my  God, 
Take  the  gentle  path. 

For  my  heart's  desire 
Unto  thine  is  bent, 

1  aspire 
To  a  full  consent. 


Anon. 


IT!   in  v  lnT 

;  1   •         I 

i      igh  1  hall  in  } 

I 

khfl  tlimi 

Then  lei  wrath  r- 

a  ill  do  the  d( 

|    N\ill    Mr. 

w  away  thy  r 
igh  man  frailties  I 

Thou  ai 
<>w  away  thy  wrath  ! 

.HERT. 


BE  TE  FATIENT. 


L  aIv  and  iad^  by  fruit*  and  Bowers  onbl 
h  my  worn  feel  treads  sadly,  day  by  d 
Longing  u  .  — 

Jrl    -oftly    \N 

With  pale,  8^ 

rleas 

•  in  endu 


108  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Of  suffering  meekly  borne,  rests  on  her  face, 
So  pure,  so  glorified. 

And  when  my  fainting  heart 

Desponds  and  murmurs  at  the  adverse  fate, 
Then  quietly  the  angel's  bright  lips  part — 

Murmuring  softly — "  Wait !" 

"  Patience,''  she  softly  saith, 

The  Father's  mercies  never  come  too  late; 
Gird  thee,  and  with  patient  strength  and  trusting 
faith 

And  firm  endurance  wait. 

Angels,  behold,  I  wait ! 

Wearing   the   thorny  crown,   through  all  life's 
hours, 
Wait,  till  thy  hand  shall  ope  the  eternal  gate, 
And  change  the  thorns  to  flowers. 

Anon. 


PRAISE  FOR  AFFLICTIONS. 

For  what  shall  I  praise  thee,  my  God,  and  my  King, 
For  what  blessings  the  tribute  of  gratitude  bring  ? 
Shall  I  praise  thee  for  pleasure,  for  health,  and  for 

ease  ? 
For  the  spring  of  delight,  and  the  sunshine  of  peace  ? 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  109 

Shall  I  praise  thee  for  flowers  that  bloomed  in  my 

breast  ? 
For  joys  in  prospective,  and  pleasures  possessed  ? 
For  the  spirits  that  heightened  my  days  of  delight? 
And  the  slumbers  that  sat  on  my  pillow  by  night  ? 

For  this  would  I  praise  thee  ;  but  if  only  for  this, 
I  should  leave  half  untold  the  donation  of  bliss  ; 
I  thank  thee  for  sickness,  for  sorrow,  for  care ; 
For  the  thorns  I  have  gathered,  the  anguish  I  bear. 

For  nights  of  anxieties,  watchings,  and  tears ; 
A  present  of  pain,  a  prospective  of  fears  ; 
I  praise  thee,  I  bless  thee,  my  King  and  my  God, 
For  the  good  and  the  evil  thy  hand  hath  bestowed. 

The  flowers  were  sweet,  but  their  fragrance  is  flown, 
They  yielded  no  fruits,  they  are  withered  and  gone ; 
The  thorn,  it  was  poignant,  but  precious  to  me  ; — 
'Twas  the  message  of  mercy,  it  led  me  to  Thee. 

Fry. 


THE  SERVICE  OF  THE  LORD. 

;  If  anv  man  serve  me,  let  him  follow  me,  and  where  I  am, 
there  shall  also  my  servant  be."— John  xii.  26. 

How  blessed  from  the  bonds  of  sin. 

And  earthly  fetters  free, 
In  singleness  of  heart  and  aim 

Thy  servant,  Lord,  to  be ! 
10 


110  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

The  hardest  toil  to  undertake 
With  joy  at  thy  command  ; 

The  meanest  office  to  receive, 
With  meekness  at  thy  hand. 

With  willing  heart  and  longing  eyes 

To  watch  before  thy  gate, 
Ready  to  run  the  weary  race, 

To  bear  the  heavy  weight ; 
No  voice  of  thunder  to  expect 

But  follow,  calm  and  still, 
For  love  can  easily  divine 

The  One  Beloved's  will. 

Thus  may  I  serve  thee,  gracious  Lord, 

Thus  ever  thine  alone, 
My  soul  and  body  give  to  thee, 

The  purchase  thou  hast  won  ; 
Through  evil,  or  through  good  report, 

Still  keeping  by  thy  side, 
By  life,  or  death,  in  this  poor  flesh, 

Let  Christ  be  magnified. 

How  happily  the  working  days 

In  this  dear  service  fly, 
How  rapidly  the  closing  hour — 

The  time  of  rest  draws  nigh  ! 
When  all  the  faithful  gather  home, 

A  joyful  company, 
And  ever  where  the  Master  is 

Shall  his  blest  servants  be. 


Spitta. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  Ill 


"CEASE  THOU  FROM  MAN." 

Cease  thou  from  man — oh  !  what  to  thee 
Can  thy  poor  fellow-mortals  be  ? 

Are  they  not  erring,  finite,  frail  ? 
What  can  their  utmost  aid  avail  ? 

Their  very  love  will  prove  a  snare ; 

Then,  when  thy  heart  becomes  aware 
Of  its  own  danger,  it  will  bleed 

For  leaning  on  a  broken  reed. 

Why  does  thy  bliss  so  much  depend 

On  earthly  relative  or  friend  ? 
There  is  a  Friend  who  changes  never, 

The  love  He  gives  will  last  for  ever. 

He  has  withdrawn  thee,  now,  apart 
To  teach  these  lessons  to  thy  heart ; 

Has  darkened  all  thy  earthly  scene 
That  thou  on  Him  alone  may'st  lean. 

His  precious  love  the  balm  supplies 
For  which  thy  wounded  spirit  sighs  ; 

That  only  medicine  can  make  whole 
The  weary,  faint,  and  sin-sick  soul. 

Go  to  that  Friend,  poor  aching  heart, 
He  knows  how  desolate  thou  art, 

He  waits,  He  longs  to  see  thee  blest, 
And  in  Himself  to  give  thee  rest. 

Anon. 


112  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

FATHER,  I  KNOW. 

Father,  I  know  that  all  my  life 

Is  portioned  out  by  Thee, 
And  the  changes  that  will  surely  come 

I  do  not  fear  to  see. 
But  I  ask  Thee  for  a  quiet  mind, 

Intent  on  pleasing  Thee. 
I  ask  Thee  for  a  thankful  love 

Though  constant  watchings  wise, 
To  meet  the  glad  with  cheerful  smile, 

And  to  wipe  the  weeping  eyes ; 
And  a  heart  at  leisure  from  itself 

To  soothe  and  sympathize. 
I  would  not  have  the  restless  will, 

That  wanders  to  and  fro 
Seeking  for  some  great  thing  to  do 

Or  secret  thing  to  know. 
I  would  be  dealt  with  as  a  child, 

Led,  guided  where  to  go, 
Wherever  in  the  world  I  am, 

In  whatsoe'er  estate, 
I  have  a  fellowship  with  other  hearts 

To  keep  and  cultivate ; 
And  a  work  of  holy  love  to  do, 

For  the  Lord  on  whom  I  wait. 
I  ask  Thee  for  the  daily  strength, 

To  none  that  ask  denied, 
And  a  mind  to  blend  with  outward  life 

While  keeping  at  Thy  side. 


nm  iii.wv  :  US 

•tut  t«>  fill  a  little 

Bo  Thou  be  glorified  ! 

And  it'  some  things  1  do  not  nsk 

In  my  cup  of  blessing  be, 

old  have  my  spirit  filled  the  more 
With  gratitude  to  Thee. 

careful  than  to  serve  Thee  much. 

To  serve  Tli-  ;ly. 

There  are  thorns  besetting  every  path, 

That  call  for  patient  e;n  • 
There  18  a  CTOok  in  every  lot, 

And  a  need  for  earnesl  prayer; 

But  a  lowly  heart  that  leans  on  Thee, 

1>  happy  every*  I 
In  I  that  Thy  love  appoints, 

There  are  no  bonds  for  n 
For  my  secret  heart  is  taught  the  truth, 

That  makes  thy  children  free; 
And  a  life  of  self-renouncing  love 

Is  a  life  of  liberty. 

Mrs.  Warino. 


VOYAGKK  on  life's  troul 

entity ! 

Turn  from  earthly  tie:  .y — 

10* 


114  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Chaining  down  to  earth  the  heart, 
Nothing  lasting  they  impart — 
Voyager,  what  are  they  to  thee  ? 
Leave  them  all,  and  follow  me ! 

Traveller  on  the  road  of  life  ! 
Seeking  pleasure,  finding  strife — 
Know  the  world  can  never  give 
Aught  on  which  the  soul  can  live ; 
Grasp  not  riches, — seek  not  fame — 
Shining  dust  and  sounding  name ! 
Traveller,  what  are  they  to  thee  ? 
Leave  them  all,  and  follow  me. 

Pilgrim  through  this  "  vale  of  tears  !" 
Banish  all  thy  doubts  and  fears  ; 
Lift  thine  eyes, — a  heaven's  above  ! 
Think, — there  dwells  a  God  of  love  ! 
Wouldst  thou  favour  with  him  find  ? 
Keep  his  counsels  in  thy  mind  ! 
Pilgrim  !  much  He's  done  for  thee  ! 
Wilt  thou,  then,  not  follow  me  ? 

Wanderer  from  the  Father's  throne, 
Hasten  back — thy  errings  own  : 
Turn, — thy  path  leads  not  to  heaven ! 
Turn, — thy  faults  will  be  forgiven  ! 
Turn, — and  let  thy  songs  of  praise 
Mingle  with  angelic  lays  ! 
Wanderer,  have  they  charms  for  thee  ? 
I  know  they  have — then  follow  me  ! 


Anon. 


iii.wv    BBA1  1  15 

POWEB  01  PRATER. 

ThIBI  ifl  an  eye  tliat  Q61  I 

Beneath  the  wing  of  night, 
There  ifl  an  ear  that  neyer  Bhuta 

When  sinks  the  beam  of  light. 

There  ifl  an  arm  thai  never  I  b 
When  human  strength  ir i \ « •  -  waj  ; 

There  is  a  l<»ve  which  never  failfl 
When  earthly  loves  decay. 

Thi  fixed  <>n  Beraph  throng 

That  ear  is  fixed  on  angels1  Bongs  ; 

That  arm  upholds  the  world  on  high  ; 
That  love  is  thrown  beyond  the  >ky. 

But  there'.-  ;i  power  which  man  can  wield, 

When  mortal  aid  is  vain  ; 
That  eye,  that  arm,  that  love  to  n 

That  listening  ear  to  gain  : 
That  power  ifl  prayer,  which  Boaro  <>n  h 
And  feed-  on  bliss  beyond  the  sky. 

Giuii  1/  Vtijimh  ftiifry. 



MH  HKKK— NOT  THERE. 

Tin-  world,  I  I  I  fad,  like  tl: 

right  to  those  who  know  Thy  1 
Where'er  they  dwell,  tfiey  dwell  with  Tl 
In  heaven,  in  earth,  or  in  the 


116  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

To  me  remains  nor  place,  nor  time, 

My  country  is  in  every  clime : 
I  can  be  calm,  and  free  from  care, 

On  any  shore,  since  God  is  there. 

While  place  we  seek,  or  place  we  shun, 
The  soul  finds  happiness  in  none. 

But  with  my  God  to  guide  my  way, 
'Tis  equal  joy  to  go  or  stay. 

Could  I  be  cast  where  Thou  art  not, 
That  were  indeed  a  dreadful  lot ; — 

But  regions  none,  remote,  I  call 
Secure  of  finding  God  in  all. 

Madame  Guyox. 


THY  WILL  BE  DONE." 


My  God,  my  Father,  while  I  stray 
Far  from  my  home  in  life's  rough  way, 
Oh  teach  me  from  my  heart  to  say, 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

Though  dark  my  path,  and  sad  my  lot, 
Let  me  be  still,  and  murmur  not, 
But  breathe  the  prayer,  divinely  taught, — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  117 

What  tho'  in  lonely  grief  I  sigh, 
For  friends  beloved,  no  longer  nigh, 
Submissive  still  would  I  reply, — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

If  thou  should' st  call  me  to  resign 
What  I  most  prize — it  ne'er  was  mine ; 
I  only  yield  Thee  what  was  thine — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

Should  pining  sickness  waste  away 
My  life  in  premature  decay, 
My  Father — still  I  strive  to  say, — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

If  but  my  fainting  heart  be  blest 
With  thy  sweet  Spirit  for  its  guest, 
My  God,  to  thee  I  leave  the  rest — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

Renew  my  will  from  day  to  day, 
Blend  it  with  thine,  and  take  away 
All  that  now  makes  it  hard  to  say, — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

Then  when  on  earth  I  breathe  no  more 
The  prayer  oft  mixed  with  tears  before, 
I'll  sing  upon  a  happier  shore, — 
"Thy  will  be  done!" 

Charlotte  Elliott. 


118  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THE  SOUL'S  IMAGE. 

What  superscription,  0  my  soul ! 

What  image  dost  thou  bear  ? 
Do  earth-stains  mar  its  loveliness, 

Is  guilt  reflected  there  ? 

What  image  dost  thou  wear,  my  soul, 
Inwrought  with  life-long  toil ; 

The  heavenly  bringing,  precious  hope, 
Free  from  life's  dust  and  soil  ? 

Does  holy  love  the  impress  leave, 

Is  charity  within  ? 
Is  the  soul's  image  bright  and  pure, 

Or  is  it  dimmed  by  sin  ? 

Oh,  I  would  bear  thy  image,  Christ ! 

Engraved  upon  my  soul ; 
With  thee  in  pastures  green  would  walk, 

Until  I  reach  the  goal. 


Anon. 


AFFLICTION. 


Count  each  affliction,  whether  light  or  grave, 
God's  messenger,  sent  down  to  thee.     Do  thou, 
With  courtesy,  receive  him ;  rise  and  bow, 
And,  ere  his  shadow  cross  thy  threshold,  crave 
Permission  first  his  heavenly  feet  to  lave. 


FOR   HEAVY   B1ABTB.  119 

There  lay  before  him  all  thou  hast.     Allow 

No  cloud  of  passion  to  usurp  thy  brow, 

Or  rnar  thy  hospitality,  no  wave 

( >f  mortal  tumult  to  obliterate 

The  soul's  marmoreal  calmness.     Grief  should  bo 
Like  joy,  majestic,  equable,  sedate, 
Confirming,  cheering,  raising,  making  free, 

Strong  to  oonsume  small  troubles,  to  commend 
Great   thoughts,  grave  thoughts,  thoughts   lasting 
to  the  end. 

Anon. 


COME  TO  ME./ >;^    fa»jUb 

Come  to  me,  Lord,  when  first  I  wake, 
A     the  faint  lights  of  morning  break; 
Bid  purest  thoughts  within  me  rise, 
Like  crystal  dew-drops  to  the  si 

Come  to  me,  in  the  Bultry  noon, 
Or  earth'-  low  rommunings  will  soon, 
( ){"  Thy  d(  the  light, 

And  change  mj  fair*  i  night. 

Come  to  me  in  the  evening  sh.i 
And  it'  my  heart  from  Thee  have  .-tray. 
( Mi,  bring  it  back,  and  from  afar, 
Smile  on  me  like  Shine  evening  star. 


120  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Come  to  me  in  the  midnight  hour, 
When  sleep  withholds  its  balmy  power, 
Let  my  lone  spirit  find  its  rest 
Like  John,  upon  my  Saviour's  breast. 

Come  to  me  through  life's  varied  way ; 
And  when  its  pulses  cease  to  play 
Then,  Saviour,  bid  me  come  to  Thee, 
That  where  Thou  art,  Thy  child  may  be ! 

Anon. 


COMMON  BLESSINGS. 


Loving  word  and  kindly  deed, 
And  that  grace  which  doth  exceed 
Every  other,  though  it  bear 
Not  so  high  a  name  and  air : — 
Love's  forbearance,  daily  seen 
In  the  sweet  and  patient  mien ; 
Household  love,  which  vainly  tries 
To  hide  itself  in  new  disguise : — 
With  all  sympathies,  wThich  bind 
Heart  to  heart,  and  mind  to  mind  ;- 
Common  blessings  these  appear, 
But  most  excellent  and  dear  : — 
Health  to  gladden  every  day ; 
Hope  to  banish  care  away ; 
Love,  prosperity  to  bless  ; 
Prayer  to  sanctify  distress ; 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  121 

Common  blessings  these  may  be, 
But  most  precious  unto  me ; 
Treasures  of  our  common  lot 
Not  unnoticed  or  forgot, 
Silent  as  ye  come  and  go, — 
Grateful  hearts  your  presence  know; — 
Long  continued  may  you  be, 
Common  blessings,  unto  me. 

Anon. 


PROVIDENCE. 


Look  and  listen,  look  and  listen ! 

Thou  the  guiding  hand  shalt  see, 
And  a  voice  divinely  tender 

Lovingly  shall  talk  with  thee. 

Cling  thou  to  that  hand  confiding, 

Even  as  a  little  child ; 
They  who  trust  the  heavenly  guiding, 

Safely  pass  through  deserts  wild. 

Safe  through  forests,  lone  and  fearful, 

Safe  through  throngs  where  pleasures  lure, 

Safe  alike  in  sunshine  cheerful, 
And  when  clouds  the  way  obscure. 

Holding  fast  the  hand  so  tender, 

Listening  to  the  kindly  voice, 
11 


122  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Every  fear  thou  may'st  surrender 
And  for  evermore  rejoice. 

I  could  tell  to  thee  a  story — 

Many  such  there  might  be  told — 

Of  a  man,  now  old  and  hoary, 

Who,  thus  trusting,  has  grown  old. 

Through  the  storms  of  many  winters 
That  have  gloomed  above  his  head, 

Through  the  colder  storms  of  sorrow 
He  in  safety  has  been  led. 

Subject  to  the  world's  mutations, 
Oft  in  darkness,  oft  in  fear, 

Oft  in  dangers  and  temptations, 
Still  the  kindly  voice  was  near, 

Whispering  to  him,  "  Be  not  fearful, 
Thou  shalt  never  go  astray ; 

Let  thy  heart  be  brave  and  cheerful, 
I  will  lead  thee  on  thy  way." 

What  though  foes  would  have  bereft  him 

Of  his  honourable  name  ; 
Seeking  on  that  brow  so  noble 

To  affix  the  brand  of  Shame. 

What  though  early  friends  departed 
From  before  his  lingering  eye, 

And  full  often,  weary-hearted, 
Longed  he  far  from  earth  to  fly. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  123 

What  though  want,  her  terrors  wearing, 
What  though  sickness  crossed  his  way, 

And  the  tempter,  grown  more  daring, 
Dogged  his  footsteps  day  by  day. 

Yet  in  safety  passed  he  onward, 

Passing  toward  the  better  land ; 
Listening  to  the  voice  so  tender, 

Holding  fast  the  guiding  hand. 

And  the  shadows  lengthen  round  him, 

Yet  he  passes  onward  still ; 
Heeding  not  the  coming  darkness, 

Feeling  not  the  evening's  chill. 

Look  and  listen,  look  and  listen,- — 
Thou  the  guiding  hand  shalt  see, 

And  a  voice  divinely  tender, 
Lovingly  shall  talk  with  thee  ! 


Anon, 


u. 


HE  LEADETH  ME  BESIDE  STILL  WATERS. 

"  He  leadeth  me!"   0  blessed  thought ! 
0  words  with  heavenly  comfort  fraught ! 
Whate'er  I  do,  where'er  I  be, 
Still  'tis  God's  hand  that  leadeth  me ! 

He  leadeth  me  !  J  Ic  leadeth  me  ! 

By  his  own  hand  he  learleth  me. 


124  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Sometimes  'mid  scenes  of  deepest  gloom, 
Sometimes  where  Eden's  bowers  bloom ; 
By  waters  still  o'er  troubled  sea — 
Still  'tis  his  hand  that  leadeth  me  ! 

He  leadeth  me  !  He  leadeth  me  ! 

By  his  own  hand  he  leadeth  me. 

Lord,  I  would  clasp  my  hand  in  thine, 
Nor  ever  murmur  nor  repine — 
Content,  whatever  lot  I  see, 
Since  'tis  my  God  that  leadeth  me ; 

He  leadeth  me  !  He  leadeth  me ! 

By  his  own  hand  he  leadeth  me. 

And  when  my  task  on  earth  is  done, 
When  by  thy  grace  the  victory's  won ; 
E'en  death's  cold  wave  I  will  not  flee, 
Since  God  through  Jordan  leadeth  me. 

He  leadeth  me !  He  leadeth  me  ! 

By  his  own  hand  he  leadeth  me. 


BRING  ME  HOME. 


Anon. 


I  know  not  the  way  I  am  going, 
But  well  do  I  know  my  guide ; 

With  a  child-like  trust  I  give  my  hand 
To  the  mighty  Friend  by  my  side. 

The  only  thing  that  I  say  to  Him, 
As  he  takes  it,  is,  "Hold  it  fast ! 


FOR   IIEAVY   HEARTS.  125 

Suffer  me  not  to  lose  iny  way 
But  bring  rne  home  at  last !" 

As  when  some  helpless  wanderer, 

Alone,  in  an  unknown  land, 
Tells  the  guide  his  destined  place  of  rest, 

And  leaves  all  else  in  his  hand  ; — 
'Tis  home,  'tis  home,  that  we  wish  to  reach, 

He  who  guides  us  may  choose  the  way, 
Little  we  heed  the  path  we  take, 

If  nearer  home  each  day ! 

Anon. 


THE  GUESTS. 


"  Behold,  I  stand  at  the  door  and  knock  ;  if  any  man  hear  my 
voice,  and  open  the  door,  I  will  come  into  him,  and  will  sup 
with  him,  and  he  with  me." — Rev.  iii.  20. 

Speechless  Sorrow  sat  with  me ; 
I  was  sighing  wearily. 
Lamp  and  fire  were  out ;  the  rain 
Wildly  beat  the  window  pane. 
In  the  dark  we  heard  a  knock, 
And  a  hand  was  on  the  lock  ; 
One  in  waiting  spake  to  me, 
Saying  sweetly, 
"I  am  come  to  sup  with  thee !" 

All  my  room  was  dark  and  damp  ; 
"Sorrow,"  said  I,  "trim  the  lamp; 
11  * 


126  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Light  the  fire,  and  cheer  thy  face  ; 
Set  the  guest-chair  in  its  place. " 
And  again  I  heard  the  knock ; 
In  the  dark  I  found  the  lock — 
"Enter,  I  have  turned  the  key  ! 
Enter,  stranger, 
Who  art  come  to  sup  with  me!" 

Opening  wide  the  door,  he  came ; 
But  I  could  not  speak  his  name ; 
In  the  guest-chair  took  his  place, 
But  I  could  not  see  his  face ; 
When  my  cheerful  eye  was  beaming, 
When  my  little  lamp  was  gleaming, 
And  the  feast  was  spread  for  thee, 

Lo !  my  Master 
Was  the  guest  that  supped  with  me  ! 

Harriet  McEwen  Kimball. 


THINE. 

Thou  knowest  my  weakness,  Lord,  my  every  failing, 

Thoughts  unexpressed ; 
Those  sinful  thoughts,  my  better  ones  assailing, 

That  throng  my  breast. 

More  than  I  think  my  wicked  heart  contains, 

Thou  canst  divine ; 
Lord,  at  thy  feet,  thy  love  that  heart  detains ; 

For  I  am  thine. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS.  127 

Thou  art  my  Master  ;  may  thy  arms  of  love 

Around  me  twine, 
And  raise  me  to  that  blessed  land  above  : 

Lord,  I  am  thine. 

Save  me,  that  never  more  from  out  thy  fold 

I  go  astray, 
Within  thy  arms  my  feeble  spirit  hold ; 

Turn  not  away. 

Pardon,  dear  Lord,  all  that  has  been  amiss, 

That  grieves  thee  so ; 
Grant  me  a  foretaste  of  that  heavenly  bliss 

I  long  to  know. 

Thy  seal  is  on  my  brow ;  may  a  sweet  calm 

And  hope  be  mine  ; 
That  I  may  sing  with  joy  this  gracious  psalm, 

Lord,  I  am  thine. 

Anon. 


TARRY  WITH  ME. 


Tarry  with  me,  0  my  Saviour  ! 

For  the  day  is  passing  by ; 
See  !  the  shades  of  evening  gather, 

And  the  night  is  drawing  nigh  ! 
Tarry  with  me  !  tarry  with  me  ! 

Pass  me  not  unheeded  by  ! 


128  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Many  friends  were  gathered  round  me, 
In  the  bright  days  of  the  past ; 

But  the  grave  has  closed  above  them, 
And  I  linger  here  the  last ! 

I  am  lonely  ;  tarry  with  me 
Till  the  dreary  night  is  past. 

Dimmed  for  me  is  earthly  beauty ; 

Yet  the  spirit's  eye  would  fain 
Rest  upon  thy  lovely  features : 

Shall  I  seek,  dear  Lord,  in  vain  ? 
Tarry  with  me,  0  my  Saviour, 

Let  me  see  thy  smile  again ! 

Dull  my  ear  to  earth-born  music : 

Speak,  thou  Lord,  in  words  of  cheer : 

Feeble,  tottering,  my  footstep, 
Sinks  my  heart  with  sudden  fear ; 

Cast  thine  arms,  dear  Lord,  around  me 
Let  me  feel  thy  presence  near. 

Faithful  memory  paints  before  me 
Every  deed  and  thought  of  sin ; 

Open,  thou,  the  blood-filled  Fountain, 
Cleanse  my  guilty  soul  within : 

Tarry  thou,  forgiving  Saviour  ! 
Wash  me  wholly  from  my  sin ! 

Deeper,  deeper  grow  the  shadows, 
Paler,  now,  the  glowing  West ; 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  129 

Swift  the  night  of  death  advances  ; 

Shall  it  be  the  night  of  rest  ? 
Tarry  with  me,  0  my  Saviour  ! 

Lay  my  head  upon  thy  breast ! 

Feeble,  trembling,  fainting,  dying, 

Lord,  I  cast  myself  on  thee  : 
Tarry  with  me,  through  the  darkness  ! 

While  I  sleep,  still  watch  by  me, 
Till  the  morning,  then  awake  me  ; 

Dearest  Lord,  to  dwell  with  thee. 


THY  WAY,  NOT  MINE. 

Thy  way,  not  mine,  0  Lord, 

However  dark  it  be ; 
Lead  me  by  thine  own  hand, 

Choose  out  the  path  for  me. 

Smooth  let  it  be,  or  rough, 

It  will  be  still  the  best ; 
Winding  or  straight,  it  matters  not ; 

It  leads  me  to  thy  rest. 

I  dare  not  choose  my  lot ; 

I  would  not,  if  I  might : 
Choose  thou  for  me,  my  God, 

So  shall  I  walk  aright. 


130  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

The  kingdom  that  I  seek 
Is  thine  :  so  let  the  way 

That  leads  to  it  be  thine, 
Else  I  must  surely  stray. 

Choose  thou  for  me  my  friends, 
My  sickness  or  my  health ; 

Choose  thou  my  cares  for  me, 
My  poverty  or  wealth. 

Not  mine,  not  mine  the  choice 
In  things  or  great  or  small ; 

Be  thou  my  Guide,  my  Strength, 
My  Wisdom,  and  my  All. 


HORATIUS   BONAR. 


I  HOLD  STILL.3 


Pain's  furnace  heat  within  me  quivers, 
God's  breath  upon  the  flame  doth  blow, 

And  all  my  heart  in  anguish  shivers, 
And  trembles  at  the  fiery  glow : 

And  yet  I  whisper,  as  God  will ! 

And  in  its  hottest  fire  hold  still. 

He  comes  and  lays  my  heart,  all  heated, 
On  the  hard  anvil,  minded  so 

Into  his  own  fair  shape  to  beat  it 

With  his  great  hammer,  blow  on  blow, 

And  yet  I  whisper,  as  God  will ! 

And  at  his  heaviest  blows  hold  still. 


iii:\yy    DBA]  L81 

11.'  takes  1 1 1 \  Boftened  heart  and  beatfl  it ; 

The  sparks  lly  off  at  every  bl< 
He  turns  it  o'er  and  o'er  and  heats  it, 

And  lets  it  ooolj  and  makes  it  glow: 
And  yet  1  whisper,  as  God  will ! 
And  in  bis  mighty  hand  hold  still. 

"Why  should  1  murmur  J  for  the  sorrow 
Thus  only  longer-lived  would  be; 

Its  end  may  come,  and  will  to-morrow, 
When  God  has  done  his  work  in  me: 

B  i  1  Bay,  trusting,  as  God  will! 

And  trusting  to  the  end,  hold  still. 

He  kindles  for  my  profit,  purely, 

Affliction's  glowing,  fiery  brand, 
And  all  his  heaviest  blows  arc  surely 
Inflicted  by  a  Master-hand: 
Bay,  praying,  as  God  will ! 
And  hope  in  him  and  Buffer  still. 

From  the  German  of  Sturm. 


BEARINfi  THE  I 


s,  the  nearer  I 

CTOBS  without,  no  God  within. 

th,  judgment,  from  the  heart  are  driven, 
Amidst  the  world's  false  glare  and  din. 

<  >h  !    happy  he,  with  all  his  loi 

m  God  h.  -oss. 


132  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

The  heavier  cross,  the  better  Christian, — 
This  is  the  touchstone  God  applies  ; 

How  many  a  garden  would  lie  wasting, 
Unwet  by  showers  from  weeping  eyes  ! 

The  gold  by  fire  is  purified ; 

The  Christian  is  by  trouble  tried. 

The  heavier  cross,  the  stronger  faith ; 

The  loaded  palm  strikes  deeper  root ; 
The  vine-juice  sweetly  issueth 

When  men  have  pressed  the  clustered  fruit. 
And  courage  grows  where  dangers  come, 
Like  pearls  beneath  the  salt-sea  foam. 

The  heavier  cross,  the  heartier  prayer ; 

The  bruised  herbs  most  fragrant  are. 
If  wind  and  sky  were  always  fair 

The  sailor  would  not  wTatch  the  star ; 
And  David's  psalms  had  ne'er  been  sung, 
If  grief  his  heart  had  never  wrung. 

The  heavier  cross,  the  more  aspiring ; 

From  vales  we  climb  to  mountain  crest ; 
The  pilgrim  of  the  desert  tiring, 

Longs  for  the  Canaan  of  his  rest. 
The  dove  has  here  no  rest  in  sight, 
And  to  the  ark  she  wings  her  flight. 

The  heavier  cross,  the  easier  dying ; 

Death  is  a  friendlier  face  to  see ; 
To  life's  decay  one  bids  defying — 

From  life's  distress  one  then  is  free. 


FOB    RAVI    nr\i 

The  c  limely  lifts  our  faith 

To  him  n li<>  triumphed  <>\ er  <l<;itli. 

Thou  Crucified!  The  cross  I  carry — 

The  longer  may  it  dearer  be  ; 
And,  lest  1  taint  whilst  here  I  tarry, 

Implant  thou  Buch  ;i  heart  in  me, 
That  Faith,  bope,  love,  may  flourish  there, 
Till  for  my  cross  the  crown  I  wear. 

From  the  C  5      toik. 


IKO  WITH  THEE. 


hour  with  thee,  my  God,  when  daylight  breaks 
r  a  world  thy  guardian  care  hath  k< 
When  the  pleased  sou]  from  Boothing  Blumber  wakes, 
To  praise  the  love  that  watched  me  while  I  Blept; 
When  with  new  Btrength  my  puke  Lb  beating  fr( 
My  first,  jt  thoughts  I'll  give  to  thee. 

hour  with  thee,  when  busy  day  begins 
It-  i  round  of  cumb'ring  mrr  ■ 

When  I  i  *  with  toil,  and  pain,  and  a 

I  through  them  all  my  cross  must  b< 

Oli  then  to  arm  me  for  the  fight,  to  be 

iit'ul  to  death,  I'll  Bpend  one  hour  with  thee. 

with  thee,  when  rides  the  glorious  ran 
i  in  mid  heaven — when  parting  nature  f 
Lift  .  and  man  has  doi 

jhort  hour,  with  urging  life's  b*  ift  * 


134  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

In  that  deep  pause,  my  soul  from  care  shall  flee, 
To  make  that  hour  of  rest  an  hour  with  thee. 

One  hour  with  thee,  when  sadd'ning  twilight  flings 
Her  soothing  charm  o'er  lawn,  and  vale,  and  grove, 

And  there  breathes  up  from  all  created  things 
The  sweet  enthralling  sense  of  thy  dear  love ; 

Then,  when  its  influence  descends  on  me, 

Oh  then,  my  God,  I'll  spend  an  hour  with  thee! 

One  hour  with  thee,  my  God,  when  softly  night 

Climbs  the  high  heaven  with  solemn  step  and  slow, 
And  thy  sweet  stars,  unutterably  bright, 

Are  sending  forth  thy  praise  to  all  below ; 
Then,  when   my  thoughts   from   earth   to   heaven 
would  flee, 
Oh  then,  my  God,  I'll  spend  an  hour  with  thee  ! 

Anon. 


MINISTERING  ANGELS. 


Time  and  Patience  !  these  are  angels 
By  our  heavenly  Father  sent ; 

Whispering  to  our  restless  spirits 
" Cease  to  murmur,  be  content; 

God,  who  is  our  truest  friend 
Doth  us  aid  in  trials  send. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  135 

When  thy  weary  spirit  faileth, 

'Neath  the  weary  cross  it  bears, 
God  is  not  unmindful  of  thee — 

He  is  listening  to  thy  prayers, 
From  his  children's  tearful  pleading 

He  will  never  turn  unheeding. 

Heart  of  mine !  trust  thou  these  angels ! 

Lean  on  Patience,  and  be  calm ; 
Trust  in  Time,  who  is  preparing 

For  thy  grief  a  spirit  balm. 

God  is  merciful,  and  he 

Gave  them  charge  concerning  thee. 

Anon. 


COMMUNION  WITH  GOD. 

Lord,  I  am  come  alone  with  Thee ! 
Thy  voice  to  hear,  Thy  face  to  see, 

And  feel  Thy  presence  near ; 
It  is  not  fancy's  lovely  dream, 
Though  wondrous  e'en  to  faith  it  seem, 

That  Thou  dost  wait  me  here. 

A  moment  from  this  outward  life, 
Its  service,  self-denial,  strife, 

I  joyfully  retreat ; 
My  soul,  through  intercourse  with  Thee, 
Strengthen 'd,  refresh' d,  and  calm'd  should  be, 

Its  scenes  again  to  meet. 


, 


136  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

How  can  it  be  that  one  so  mean, 
A  sinner,  selfish,  dark,  unclean, 

Thus  in  the  Holiest  stands  ? 
And  in  that  light  divinely  pure, 
Which  may  no  stain  of  sin  endure, 

Lifts  up  rejoicing  hands  ! 

Jesus  !  the  answer  Thou  hast  given  ! 
Thy  death,  Thy  life,  have  opened  heaven 

And  all  its  joys  to  me  ; 
Washed  in  thy  blood — 0  wondrous  grace  ! 
I'm  holy  as  the  Holy  Place 

In  which  I  worship  Thee. 

How  sweet,  how  solemn  thus  to  lie 
*     And  feel  Jehovah's  searching  eye 

On  me  well  pleased  can  rest ! 
Because  with  his  Beloved  Son, 
The  Father's  grace  has  made  me  one, 

I  must  be  always  blest. 

The  secret  pangs  I  could  not  tell 

To  dearest  friends — Thou  knowest  well; 

They  claim  Thy  gracious  heart ; 
Thou  dost  remove  with  tender  care, 
Or  sweetly  give  me  strength  to  bear 

The  sanctifying  smart. 

Thy  presence  has  a  wondrous  power ! 

The  sharpest  thorn  becomes  a  flower, 

And  breathes  a  sweet  perfume ; 


Whaie'er  looked  dark  and  sad 
With  happy  li,Lrl»t  slii!i«  -  r — 

Tli-  mob  thing  as  gloom  ! 

Thou  know'sl  1  1  ur : 

The  needful  stroke  Thou  <l<»-t  not  sp 

To  keep  me  near  Thy  side : 
irhen  1  lee  the  ohaetening 
In  Thy  pieroed  hand,  my  Lord)  m;   I 

My  -muI  j^  satisfied. 

Anon. 


CLING  To  THi;  CRUCIFIED. 

Cling  to  the  Crucified  ! 

1 1 ii  >[>■  i;:.  ii  life  bo  thee, — 

.ity. 

Hi-  pains  thy  pardon  seal ; 
I  i  ■  by  braises  heal ; 

a, — 
;ise. 
i  blood  in  all  to  t1 

I  •  e — 

It  keep*  thy  com 
Clin^  to  the  I  hmoified  1 

I    BoNAR. 


138  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THE  HOUR  OF  PRAYER. 

My  God  !  is  any  hour  so  sweet, 
From  blush  of  morn  to  evening  star, 
As  that  which  calls  me  to  thy  feet, 

The  hour  of  prayer  ? 

Blest  is  that  tranquil  hour  of  morn, 
And  blest  that  hour  of  solemn  eve, 
When  on  the  wings  of  prayer  upborne, 
The  world  I  leave  ! 

For  then  a  day-spring  shines  on  me, 
Brighter  than  morn's  ethereal  glow ; 
And  richer  dews  descend  from  thee, 

Than  earth  can  know. 

Then  is  my  strength  by  thee  renewed; 
Then  are  my  sins  by  thee  forgiven ; 
Then  dost  thou  cheer  my  solitude 

With  hope  of  heaven. 

No  words  can  tell  what  sweet  relief 
There  for  my  every  want  I  find, 
What  strength  for  warfare,  balm  for  grief, 
What  peace  of  mind. 

Hushed  is  each  doubt,  gone  every  fear ; 
My  spirit  seems  in  heaven  to  stay ; 
And  e'en  the  penitential  tear 

Is  wiped  away. 


P01    iii:avv    hi:  \  i; 


Lord  !  till  I  reach  you  1  >  1  i : —  f "i 1 1  shore, 
No  prh  il  -hall  be, 

\ -  thus,  my  inmost  boh]  to  pour 

In  prayer  to  Thee. 


I'll  A  i 


AT  HOME  IN  BBAYEN. 


IIkkk  in  die  body  pent, 

lent  from  Him  I  r< 
Yet  nightly  pitch  my  morning  tent 
A  clay's  march  nearer  home. 

My  Father's  house  on  high, 

Home  of  my  Bonl :  hoi?  near 
3  to  Faith's  fo 

The  golden  gates  appear  ! 

Ali  !  then  my  spirit  fai 
To  reach  the  land  I  1' 

The  bright  inheritance  of 

Is  will  in1 

I  all  my  prOBped   BlOS 

Like  Noah's  dove,  I  Hit  1 

leas  ami  Btormy  sk 


140  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Anon  the  clouds  disperse, 

The  winds  and  waters  cease, 
While  sweetly  o'er  my  gladdened  heart 

Expands  the  bow  of  peace. 

James  Montgomery. 


WAIT. 

Be  patient — life  is  very  brief ; 

It  passes  quickly  by. 
And,  if  it  prove  a  troubled  scene 

Beneath  a  stormy  sky, 
It  is  but  like  a  shaded  night 
That  brings  a  morn  of  radiance  bright. 

Be  hopeful — cheerful  faith  will  bring 

A  living  joy  to  thee  ; 
And  make  thy  life  a  hymn  of  praise, 

From  doubt  and  murmur  free : 
While,  like  the  sunbeam,  thou  wilt  bless 
And  bring  to  others  happiness. 

Be  earnest — an  immortal  soul 

Should  be  a  worker  true ; 
Employ  thy  talents  for  thy  God, 

And  ever  keep  in  view 
The  judgment  scene,  the  last  great  day 
When  heaven  and  earth  shall  pass  away. 


. 


FOB     HKAVV     llllAKTS.  141 

Be  liolji — let  not  sin's  dark  stain 

Thy  spirit's  whiteness  dim ; 
Keep  close  to  Jesus  'mid  the  world 

And  trust  alone  in  Him. 
So  'midst  thy  business  and  thy  rest, 
Thou  shah  be  comforted  and  blest. 

Be  prayerful — ask,  and  thou  shalt  have 
Strength  equal  to  thy  day  : 

Prayer  clasps  the  hand  that  guides  the  world; 

Oh  make  it  then  thy  stay  ! 
Ask  largely,  and  thy  God  will  be 
A  kingly  giver  unto  thee. 

Be  ready — many  fall  around, 

Our  loved  ones  disappear  ; 
We  know  not  when  our  call  may  come, 

Nor  should  we  wait  in  fear ; 
If  ready,  we  may  calmly  r« 
Living,  or  dying,  we  are  blest. 

Anon. 


THE  SOUL  WAITING. 


I  AM  foot-sore  and  xcvy  weary. 

But  1  travel  to  meet  ■  friend ; 

The  way  is  long  and  dreai 

JJut  I  know  that  it  soon  must  end. 


142  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

He  is  travelling  fast,  like  the  whirlwind, 
And  though  I  creep  slowly  on, 

We  are  drawing  nearer,  nearer, 
And  the  journey  is  almost  done. 

Through  the  heat  of  many  summers, 
Through  many  a  spring-time  rain, 

Through  long  autumns  and  weary  winters, 
I  have  hoped  to  meet  him,  in  vain. 

On  the  day  of  my  birth  he  plighted 

His  kingly  word  to  me ; 
I  have  seen  him  in  dreams  so  often 

That  I  know  what  his  smile  must  be. 

I  have  toiled  through  the  sunny  woodland, 
Through  fields  that  basked  in  the  light, 

And  through  the  lone  paths  in  the  forest, 
I  crept  in  the  dead  of  night. 

I  will  not  fear  at  his  coming, 

Although  I  must  meet  him  alone ; 

He  will  look  in  my  eyes  so  gently, 
And  take  my  hand  in  his  own. 

Like  a  dream  all  my  toil  will  vanish 
When  I  lay  my  head  on  his  breast  ; 

But  the  journey  is  very  weary, 
And  he  only  can  give  me  rest ! 

Adelaide  A.  Proctor. 


FOB    HKAVV    BSAB  148 


PILGRIM'S  WAV-SONG. 

I'm  bound  to  the  house  of  my  Father; 
Oh,  draw  not  my  feet  from  the  way, 
N<>r  Btop  me,  these  wild  flowers  to  gather; 

They  droop  at  my  touch,  and  decay! 
I  think  of  the  flowers  that  are  blooming 

In  beauty  unfading  above, 
The  wings  of  kind  angels  perfuming, 
Who  fly  down  on  errands  of  love. 

Of  earth's  shallow  waters  the  drinking 

La  powerless  my  thirst  to  allay; 
Their  taste  is  of  tears,  while  we're  sinking 

Beside  them  where  quicksands  betray. 
I  long  for  the  fount  ever  living, 

That  flows  by  my  Father's  own  door, 
With  waters  so  sweet  and  life-giving, 

To  drink  and  to  thirst  never  more. 

The  gold  of  this  bright,  happy  dwelling, 

Makes  all  lower  gold  to  look  dim  ; 
Its  treasures,  all  treasures  excelling, 

Shine  forth,  and  allure  me  to  Him. 
The  gems  of  this  world  I  am  treading 

In  dust,  where,  as  pebbles  they  lie; 
To  win  the  rich  pearl  that  is  Bhedding 

lt<  lustre  BO  pure  from  oil  high. 

For  pains  a  torn  Bpirit  is  feeling, 
balsam  from  earth  it  r 


144  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

I  go  to  the  tree  that  is  healing, 

To  drop  in  my  wounds  from  its  leaves. 

A  child  that  is  weary  with  roaming, 
Returning  in  gladness  to  see 

Its  home,  and  its  parent,  I'm  coming, — 
My  Father,  I  hasten  to  thee  ! 

Hannah  F.  Gould. 


THE  COURSE  OF  LIFE. 

From  a  Spanish  Poem, 

Oh,  let  the  soul  its  slumber  break, 
Arouse  its  senses  and  awake, 

To  see  how  soon 
Life  with  its  glories  glides  away, 
And  the  stern  footstep  of  decay. 

Comes  stealing  on : 

How  pleasure,  like  the  passing  wind, 
Blows  by,  and  leaves  us  naught  behind 

But  grief  at  last ; 
How  still  our  present  happiness 
Seems,  to  the  way  Avar  d  fancy,  less 

Than  what  is  past. 

Our  lives,  like  hasting  streams  nrast  be, 
That  into  one  engulphing  sea 

Are  doomed  to  fall — 
The  sea  of  Death  whose  waves  roll  on, 
O'er  king  and  kingdom,  crown  and  throne, 

And  swallow  all. 


FOR    111 :  \\  !     Hi   1}  1  I." 

Alike  tlii-  river'a  lordly  tide. 
Alike  tin*  humble  streamlets  glide 

To  thai  Bad  irai 
Death  leyelfl  poverty  and  pride, 
And  rich  and  poor  Bleep  Bide  by  bj 

Within  the  gl 

( hour  birth  is  but  the  Btartin 
is  the  running  of  a  ra 
An«l  death  the  goal. 
Then  all  our  steps  ai  last  lire  brought, 

That  path  alone  of  all  unsought, 

El   found  of  all. 

To  Thee,  ( I  (  tod,  my  thoughts  i 

Thou  great,  eternal,  good,  and  « 

To  Thee  I  i 
Gird  me  the  race  of  life  to  run  ; 
And  give  me  then  the  victor's  crown 

With  The<«  on  high. 


loweth  our  franx' — ii 

Tin  \.  oh  hi  d  thy  child, 

Trembling  ah  tth  the  ;•  i  ild, 

My      igile  hark  tossed  on  life's  da 
Father,  supn  m  !  1     use  my  rvy  to  Tin 

Thou  to  the  restless  v. 

And  hid  the  Ktorm  its  dark  destruction  era-*-. 


146  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Oh  speak  the  word,  Thou  seest  rne  struggling  low, 
In  agony  which  only  Thou  canst  know. 

And  only  Thou  canst  save :  oh  let  me  share, 
Father,  once  more  thy  kind  and  gracious  care ; 
Though  I  have  erred  and  wandered  far  from  Thee, 
Forgive,  most  Merciful,  and  set  my  spirit  free. 

Thou  knowest  how  bitter  is  the  strife  within, 
The  ceaseless  warring  with  unconquered  sin, 
Hovering  'twixt  good  and  ill ;  oh  let  my  soul 
Soar  far  above  the  world  and  sin's  control. 

Fannie  Raymond. 


WHISPERS  OF  THE  GLORIFIED  SPIRIT. 

In  youth  I  died,  in  maiden  bloom ; 

With  gentle  hand  Death  touched  my  cheek, 
And  with  his  touch  there  came  to  me 

A  Spirit  calm  and  meek. 

He  took  from  me  all  wish  to  stay ; 

He  was  so  kind,  I  feared  him  not  : 
My  friends  beheld  my  slow  decline, 

And  mourned  my  timeless  lot. 

They  saw  but  sorrow  ;  I  descried 
The  bliss  that  never  fades  away  ; 

They  felt  the  shadow  of  the  tomb  ; — 
I  marked  the  heavenly  dav. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  147 

I  heard  them  sob,  as  through  the  night 
They  kept  their  watch ;  then  on  my  ear 

Amid  the  sobbing  fell  a  voice 
Their  anguish  could  not  hear. 

"Come,  and  fear  not,"  it  softly  cried; 

"We  wait  to  lead  thee  to  thy  home." 
Then  leaped  my  spirit  to  reply, 

I  come,  I  long  to  come. 

I  heard  them  whisper  o'er  my  bed — 

Another  hour,  and  she  must  die. 
I  was  too  weak  to  answer  them, 

That  endless  life  was  nigh. 

Another  hour,  with  bitter  tears, 

They  mourned  me  as  untimely  dead ; 

And  heard  not  how  I  sang  a  song 
Of  triumph  o'er  their  head. 

They  bore  me  to  the  grave,  and  thought 
How  narrow  was  my  resting-place  ; 

My  soul  was  roving  high  and  wide 
At  will  through  boundless  space. 

They  clothed  themselves  in  robes  of  black  ; 

Through  the  sad  aisles  the  requiem  rang  : 
Meanwhile  the  white-robed  choirs  of  heaven 

A  holy  paean  Bang. 

Oft  from  my  paradise  I  conic, 
To  visit  those  I  love  on  earth, 


148  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

I  enter,  unperceived,  the  door ; 
They  sit  around  the  hearth. 

And  talk  in  saddened  tone  of  me 
As  one  that  never  may  return. 

How  little  think  they  that  I  stand 
Among  them  as  they  mourn ! 

But  time  will  ease  their  grief,  and  death 

Will  purge  their  darkness  from  their  eyes. 

Then  shall  they  triumph  when  they  learn 

Heaven's  solemn  mysteries. 

Anon. 


"BE  YE  THANKFUL.3 

Col.  iii.  15. 


Oh  be  ye  thankful,  while  ye  breathe 

This  wondrous  vital  air, 
And  pitch  your  tent  upon  the  earth 

That  God  hath  made  so  fair ; 
And  rest  upon  the  glorious  hope 

A  heavenly  home  to  share. 

Oh  be  ye  thankful  for  the  love 

Like  dew  around  you  shed, 
That  when  you  slumber,  sets  a  wratch 

Of  angels  round  the  bed  ; 
And  when  you  wake,  with  constant  care 

Doth  in  your  pathway  tread. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  149 

Lord,  make  us  thankful,  for  too  oft, 

By  fleeting  sorrows  bowed, 
In  the  dark  pall  of  discontent 

Our  ingrate  souls  we  shroud : 

Lend  us  thy  sunbeam,  till  we  reach 

The  sky  without  a  cloud. 

Anon. 


HEAVEN. 

I  ask  not  human  greatness, 

I  ask  not  wealth  or  fame : 
I  only  ask  my  soul  renewed 

And  sealed  with  Jesus's  name. 
To  be  an  heir  of  heaven 

And  have  a  mansion  there, 
Oh,  there  is  naught  of  earthly  good 

Can  with  such  bliss  compare. 

I  love  the  world  of  glory — 

There  would  I  have  my  home. 
Its  pearly  gates,  its  streets  of  gold, 

I  long  to  call  my  own. 
Its  gentle  stream  of  pleasure 

Where  living  waters  roll, 
With  many  a  sweet  attraction 

To  win  my  thirsty  soul. 

That  land  of  undimmed  brightness, 
Hath  blessed  charms  for  me. 
13* 


150  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

I  like  not  skies  where  shadows  fall, — 

But  light  eternally. 
The  gems  which  there  are  gleaming 

How  brilliant  do  they  shine ! 
Jasper  and  sapphire,  precious  stones 

Angelic  brows  entwine. 

But  all  their  beaming  splendour 

Is  borrowed  from  their  king, 
His  smile  gives  brightness  to  that  world, 

His  love  the  seraphs  sing. 
I  love  that  land  of  beauty ; 

His  peace  is  always  there — 
And  always  tones  of  melody, 

Are  floating  on  the  air. 

Mrs.  Mary  B.  Croker. 


EXTRACT. 

0  fainting  soul,  arise  and  sing ! 
Mount,  but  be  sober  on  the  wing. 
Mount  up  !  for  heaven  is  won  by  prayer  ; 
Be  sober,  for  thou  art  not  there 
Till  death  the  weary  spirit  free ; 
Thy  God  hath  said  'tis  good  for  thee 
To  walk  by  faith  and  not  by  sight. 
Take  it  on  trust  a  little  while, — 
Soon  shalt  thou  read  the  mystery  right 
In  the  full  sunshine  of  his  smile. 

John  Keble. 


n»K   ih;avy   iii;akt..  L51 

READY. 

Oh  to  be  ready 

When  death  shall  come  ! 
Oh  to  be  ready 

To  hasten  home  ! 
No  earthward  clinging, 

No  lingering  gaze, 
No  strife  at  parting, 

No  sore  amaze. 
No  chains  to  sever 

That  earth  has  twined, 
No  spell  to  loosen 

That  love  would  bind — 
No  flitting  shadow 

To  dim  its  light 
Of  the  angel  pinions 

Winged  for  flight. 
But  sweetly,  gently, 

To  pass  away 
From  the  world's  dim  twilight 

Into  day  ! 

Anon. 


LILIES  OF  THE  FIELD. 

Lo,  the  lilies  of  the  field  ! 

How  their  leaves  instruction  yield! 
Hark  to  Natii:  :i. 'given 

By  the  blessed  birds  of  heaven  ! — 


152  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Every  bush  and  tufted  tree 
Warbles  sweet  philosophy  : — 
"Mortal,  fly  from  doubt  and  sorrow, 
God  provideth  for  the  morrow  !" 

Say,  with  richer  crimson  glows 
The  kingly  mantle  than  the  rose  ? 
Say,  have  kings  more  wholesome  fare 
Than  we  poor  citizens  of  air  ? 
Barns  nor  hoarded  grain  have  we, 
Yet  we  carol  merrily. 
Mortal  fly  from  doubt  and  sorrow, 
God  provideth  for  the  morrow. 

One  there  lives  whose  guardian  eye, 
Guides  our  humble  destiny : 
One  there  lives,  who  Lord  of  all, 
Keeps  our  feathers,  lest  they  fall : 
Pass  we  blithely,  then  the  time, 
Fearless  of  the  square  and  line, 
Free  from  doubt  and  faithless  sorrow ; — 
"God  provideth  for  the  morrow.'' 

Bishop  Heber. 


TIME. 


Time  is  flying,  flying, 
Oh  how  swiftly  by  ! 
Like  a  waterfall,  that  rushing, 
Or  a  fountain,  ever  gushing — 


FOR   HEAVY    HEARTS.  153 

Hourly,  daily,  weekly,  yearly, 
Rapid  as  the  lightning  nearly, 
Do  the  moments  fly  ! 

Catch  the  seconds,  as  they're  passing, 

Wait  not  for  the  hours  ; 
Prize  them  as  a  golden  treasure — 
Use  them  not  in  trifling  pleasure — 
Seconds,  minutes,  prizing,  holding, 
As  you  would  those  buds,  unfolding 

Into  choicest  flowers. 

Act  for  some  important  purpose, — 

Not  with  selfish  zeal ; 
See, — humanity  is  bleeding, — 
Aid  thy  fellow-man  is  needing ; 
Hundreds,  thousands,  millions,  hear  them 
Breathing  out  their  woes ;  go  near  them, — 

Seek  their  wounds  to  heal. 

Soon  another  year  all  freighted 

With  the  deeds  of  man, 
Will  be  borne  to  God,  the  giver, 
And  recalled  by  mortal  never  ! 
Oh  be  wakeful,  watchful,  ready, 
Heart  and  hand  to  bless  the  needy ; 

Thus  fill  out  thy  span. 

Anon. 


154  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

"  THE  TIME  IS  SHORT." 

1  Cor.  vii.  29. 

Yes  !  our  griefs  will  soon  be  over, 
Yes,  our  work  will  soon  be  done ; 

Every  sunset  brings  us  nearer 
To  the  never-setting  sun. 

Every  parting  hastes  the  meeting 

Of  the  inseparable  band  : 
Onward,  through  the  vale  of  weeping, 

We  journey  to  the  tearless  land. 

Thou,  of  love  and  zeal  the  giver, 
Jesus  !  grant  us  our  request ; 

Let  our  life  be  full  of  labour, 
Calm  and  glorious  our  rest ! 

Written  by  a  Theological  Student  of  Geneva, 


TRUST. 

I'll  spare  all  useless  thinking, 
Nor  shall  my  soul  be  shrinking, 

Concerning  what  may  be : 
I'll  follow  thy  kind  leading ; 
Dear  Lord  in  each  proceeding, 

That  thou  art  all,  sufficelh  me. 


Anon. 


FOB    HEAVY    HE  w  I  155 


I  AM  READY  TO  FLY. 


Read?  now  to  spread  my  pinions, 

Glad  to  wring  my  flight  away, 
From  the  gloom  thai  hovers  round  me 

To  the  realms  of  endless  day. 
Ready  am  [,  washed  and  pardoned; 

Ready  am  I,  freed  from  sin  ; 
Ready  to  complete  the  conflict; 

Ready  heavenly  joy  to  win; — 

ly  over  death  to  triumph, 

And  to  tread  the  tempter  down; 
Ready  life  and  bliss  to  inherit, 

And  to  wear  the  glorious  crown; 
Ready  to  be  freed  from  sorrow, 

Tears  and  parting,  toil  and  pain; 
Ready  f<»r  the  heavenly  mansion — 

Life  is  dear,  but  death  is  gain ; — 

Rea  ly  to  forsake  the  shadows 

Of  the  night  so  dim  and  lo 
ly  for  my  harp  of  glory  ; 

Ready  for  the  angel's  Bong ; 
Ready  with  salvation's  banner, 

To  ecstatic  j.oys  to  ru 
Ready  for  the  glad  hosanna 

In  the  heavenly  parad 
Ren  ly,  with  the  just  made  perfS 

( llothed  in  robes  of  life  to  be, 


156  HEAVENLY    HYMNS 

Swelling  the  enraptured  chorus, 
Singing,  joy  and  victory.  * 

Heavenly  messengers  are  round  me  ; 

Hark  !  their  voices  bid  me  come  ; — 
"Earth  and  time  too  long  have  bound  thee ; 

Sister  spirit,  welcome  home." 
Glad  I  go,  my  toil  is  finished ; 

Broke  at  last  my  earthly  spell ; 
Upward,  now,  my  soul  is  tending — 

Earth,  and  time,  and  death,  farewell ! 

Anon. 


GOD  APPOINTS. 


Is  thy  lot  lonely  ?  fear  it  not,  for  He 

Who  marks  the  sparrow's  fall,  is  guiding  thee ; 

And  not  a  star  shines  o'er  thy  head  by  night, 

But  He  doth  know  that  it  will  meet  thy  sight ; 

And  not  a  joy  doth  beautify  thy  lot, 

But  tells  thee  still  that  thou  art  unforgot. 

Nay,  not  a  grief  can  darken  or  surprise, 

Dwell  in  thy  heart,  or  dim  with  tears  thine  eyes, 

But  it  is  sent,  in  mercy,  and  in  love, 

To  bid  thy  helplessness  seek  strength  above. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  157 


"  ONLY  WAITING." 

A  very  aged  Christian,  who  was  so  poor  as  to  be  in  an 
almshouse,  was  asked  what  he  was  doing  now.  He  replied, 
"  Only  waiting." 

Only  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown ; 
Only  waiting,  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown ; 
Till  the  night  of  earth  is  faded 

From  the  heart  once  full  of  day ; 
Till  the  stars  of  heaven  are  breaking 

Through  the  twilight  soft  and  gray. 

Only  waiting  till  the  reapers 

Have  the  last  sheaf  gathered  home  ; 
For  the  summer-time  is  faded, 

And  the  autumn  winds  have  come. 
Quickly,  reapers,  gather  quickly 

The  last  ripe  hours  of  my  heart, 
For  the  bloom  of  life  is  withered, 

And  I  hasten  to  depart. 

Only  waiting  till  the  angels 

Open  wide  the  mystic  gate, 
At  whose  feet  I  long  have  lingered, 

Weary,  poor,  and  desolate. 
Even  now  I  hear  the  footsteps, 

And  their  Voices,  far  away  ; 

14 


158  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

If  they  call  me,  I  am  waiting, 

Only  waiting  to  obey. 
i 
Only  waiting  till  the  shadows 

Are  a  little  longer  grown ; 
Only  waiting  till  the  glimmer 

Of  the  day's  last  beam  is  flown  ; 
Then  from  out  the  gathered  darkness 

Holy,  deathless  stars  shall  rise, 
By  whose  light  my  soul  shall  gladly 

Tread  its  pathway  to  the  skies. 


Anon. 


NOTHING  BUT  LEAVES. 


^x^Ct^»w*v^ 


Nothing  but  leaves  ;  the  spirit  grieves 

Over  a  wasted  life  ; 
Sin  committed  while  conscience  slept, 
Promises  made,  but  never  kept, 

Hatred,  battle,  and  strife ; 
Nothing  but  leaves  ! 

Nothing  but  leaves ;  no  garnered  sheaves 

Of  life's  fair  ripened  grain  ; 
Words,  idle  words,  for  earnest  deeds ; 
We  sow  our  seeds — lo !  tares  and  weeds  ; 

We  reap,  with  toil  and  pain, 
Nothing  but  leaves. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  159 

Nothing  but  leave*  ;   memory  weaves 

No  veil  to  screen  the  past ; 
As  we  retrace  our  weary  way, 
Counting  eaeli  lost  and  misspent  day, 

We  find  sadly  at  last 
Nothing  but  Leaves. 

And  shall  we  meet  the  Master  so, 

Bearing  our  withered  leaves  ? 
The  Saviour  looks  for  perfect  fruit — 
We  stand  before  him  humble,  mute, 

Waiting  the  word  he  breathes — 
"Nothing  but  leaves." 


FIRST  AND  LAST. 


'Tis  first  the  true,  and  then  the  beautiful ; 

Not  first  the  beautiful,  and  then  the  true  : 
First  the  wild  moor,  with  rock  and  reed  and  pool, 

Then  the  gay  garden,  rich  in  scent  and  hue. 

Not  first  the  glad,  and  then  the  sorrowful ; 

But  first  the  sorrowful,  and  then  the  glad ; 
Tears  for  a  day,  for  earth  of  tears  is  full; 

Then  we  forget  that  we  were  ever  sad. 

Not  first  the  bright,  and  after  that  the  dark; 

But  first  the  dark,  and  after  that  the  bright: 
First  the  thick  cloud,  and  then  the  rainbow's  arch; 

First  the  dark  grave,  then  resurrection  light. 


160  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

'Tis  first  the  night — stern  night  of  storm  and  war, 
Long  night  of  heavy  clouds  and  veiled  skies ; 

Then  the  fair  sparkle  of  the  Morning  Star, 
That  bids  the  saint  awake,  and  day  arise. 

HORATIUS    BONAR. 


GOD  WILL  SUPPORT. 


Half  a  wreck,  by  tempests  driven, 
Yet  this  feeble  bark  survives ; 

Dashed  against  the  rocks,  and  riven, 
In  the  midst  of  death  it  lives. 

See  it  pressed  on  every  side, 

See  it  still  the  storm  outride. 

Can  a  bark  like  mine,  so  shattered, 
Ever  reach  yon  friendly  shore  ? 

Tempest-tossed  so  long,  and  battered, 
Can  it  stand  one  conflict  more? 

Should  another  storm  assail 

Masts,  and  planks,  and  all,  must  fail. 

So  they  would ;  but  One  that's  greater 
Than  the  storms  and  waves,  is  here ; 

He  it  is  whose  name  is  sweeter 
Far  than  music  to  my  ear. 

Trusting  in  his  grace  and  power, 

Need  I  fear  the  darkest  hour  ? 


Anon. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS  161 


HEAVEN. 


That  clime  is  not  like  this  dull  clime  of  ours ; 

All,  all  is  brightness  there ; 
A  sweeter  influence  breathes  around  its  bowers, 

And  a  far  milder  air. 
No  calm  below  is  like  that  calm  above  ; 
No  region  here  is  like  that  realm  of  love ; 
Earth's  softest  spring  ne'er  shed  so  soft  a  light ; 
Earth's  brightest  summer  never  shone  so  bright. 

That  sky  is  not,  like  this  sad  sky  of  ours, 
Tinged  with  earth's  change  and  care ; 
No  shadow  dims  it,  and  no  rain-cloud  lowers  ; 

No  broken  sunshine  there  ! 
One  everlasting  stretch  of  azure  pours 
Its  stainless  splendour  o'er  those  sinless  shores  ; 
For  there  Jehovah  reigns  with  heavenly  ray, 
There  Jesus  reigns,  dispensing  endless  day. 

The  dwellers  there  are  not  like  those  of  earth — 

No  mortal  stain  they  bear ; 
And  yet  they  seem  of  kindred  blood  and  birth, — 

Whence  and  how  came  they  there  ? 
Earth  was  their  native  soil ;  from  sin  and  shame 
Through  tribulation  they  to  glory  came  ; 
Bond  >lavcs,  delivered  from  sin's  crushing  load, 
Brands,  plucked  from  burning,  by  the  hand  of  God. 

Those  robes  of  theirs  are  not  like  those  below  ; 
No  angel's  half  so  bright  ! 
14  * 


162  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Whence  came  that  beauty,  whence  that  living  glow? 

Whence  came  that  radiant  white  ? 
Washed  in  the  blood  of  the  atoning  Lamb, 
Fair  as  the  light,  those  robes  of  theirs  became ; 
And  now,  all  tears  wiped  off  from  every  eye, 
They  wander  where  the  freshest  pastures  lie, 
Through  all  the  nightless  day  of  that  unfading  sky. 

HOKATIUS    BONAR. 


A  LITTLE  WHILE. 

Beyond  the  smiling  and  the  weeping, 

I  shall  be  soon ; 
Beyond  the  waking  and  the  sleeping, 
Beyond  the  sowing  and  the  reaping, 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home ! 

Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come ! 

Beyond  the  blooming  and  the  fading 

I  shall  be  soon  ; 
Beyond  the  shining  and  the  shading, 
Beyond  the  hoping  and  the  dreading, 
I  shall  be  soon. 
Love,  rest,  and  home  ! 

Sweet  home ! 
Lord,  tarry  not,  but  come ! 


108 

Bejond  the  r 

ill   1)*'  s< 

md  the  h 

L<> 

Lord,  • 

ond  the  |  nd  the  meeting 

til  he  m 
n<l  the  farewell  and  tl 
>nd  the  | 

on. 

L<  :ilid  lion 

me ! 
La  not,  but  con 

in  and  t!. 

I  shall  be  soon. 
Lord,  I  \  but  con 

HOEATIUS    BONAR. 


164  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


ASPIRATIONS. 


Purer  yet,  and  purer, 
I  would  be  in  mind, 

Dearer  yet,  and  dearer, 
Every  duty  find. 

Hoping  still,  and  trusting 
God  without  a  fear, 

Patiently  believing, 
He  will  make  all  clear. 

Calmer  yet,  and  calmer 
Trial  bear,  and  pain, 

Surer  yet,  and  surer, 
Peace  at  last  to  gain. 

Suffering  still,  and  doing, 
To  my  lot  resigned, 

And  to  right  subduing 
Heart  and  will  and  mind. 

Higher  yet,  and  higher, 
Out  of  clouds  and  night, 

Nearer  yet,  and  nearer, 
Rise  towards  the  light. 

Light  serene  and  holy, 
Where  my  soul  may  rest, 

Purified  and  lowly, 
Sanctified  and  blest. 


FOB    ii  i:\yy   iu:\i  165 

Quicker  yet,  and  quick 

Ever  onwards  pr< 
Firmer  yet,  and  firmer, 
Step,  as  I  progress. 

Oft  these  earnest  longings 

Swell  within  my  breast, 
Yet  their  inner  meaning 

Scarce  can  be  express  d. 

Anon. 


LEAD  ME. 

Oh  !  lead  me  in  thy  perfect  way, 

Guide  of  my  youth, — 
From  this  time  forth  ;  and  lest  I  stray, 
Vouchsafe  thine  own  unerring  way, 

Spirit  of  Truth  ! 

At  thine  omnipotent  control 

Rude  temp<  e — 

Thou  mak'st  the  broken  spirit  whole, 
Oh  !   shed  thy  calmness  on  my  soul, 
Spirit  of  Peace  ! 

Oh  !  make  me  humble  and  resigned 

Beneath  thy  rod  ; 

For  thou  art  merciful  and  kind; 

Exalt  and  purify  my  mind, 

Spirit  of  Qod. 

Anon. 


166  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


HE  CHANGETH  NOT. 

I  will  never,  never,  leave  thee, 

I  will  never  thee  forsake, — 
I  will  guide,  and  save,  and  keep  thee 

For  my  name,  and  mercy's  sake ; 
Fear  no  evil, 

Only  all  my  counsel  take. 

When  the  storm  is  raging  round  thee, 
Call  on  me  in  humble  prayer ; 

I  will  fold  my  arms  about  thee, 

Guard  thee  with  the  tenderest  care, 

In  the  trial, 
I  will  make  thy  pathway  clear. 

When  thy  sky  above  is  glowing, 
And  around  thee  all  is  bright, 

Pleasure,  like  a  river  flowing, 
All  things  tending  to  delight, 

I'll  be  with  thee, 
I  will  guide  thy  steps  aright. 

When  thy  soul  is  dark  and  clouded, 
Filled  with  doubt,  and  grief,  and  care, 

Through  the  mists  by  which  'tis  shrouded, 
I  will  make  a  light  appear, 

And  the  banner 
Of  my  love,  I  will  uprear. 


\vv    H1AJ  (61 

m  may9at  l«.i  rig, 

11  may'at  wander  far  from  me ; — 

ad  weeping, 
•v  must  mete  out  to  thee : 

OUB 
My  rich  ble88ing8  :ill 

When  tl  dying, 

.1  thy  soul  about  I 
To  thai  land,  wh  and  sighing 

ml.  and  known  no  m< 
I  will  teach  I 
T<-  thai  life 

Anon. 


KE  DP  IllTHI 

.  .    i  v .    I . 

1  mm  in  tin-  light  of  God, 

,y  brow, 
Through  the  valley  of  death  nay  feet  hare  trod, 

And  I  now, 

N      reaking  heart  to  1 

d  and  thrilling  pain, 

i  ill. 

I  hare  found  the  }<>y  ol 

1  band, 
v  head  i  crown 
And  a  harp  to  in  my  hai 


168  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

I  have  learned  the  song  they  sing, 

Whom  Jesus  hath  made  free, 
And  the  glorious  walls  on  high  still  ring 

With  my  new-born  melody. 

No  sin — no  grief — no  pain — 

Safe  in  my  happy  home — 
My  fears  all  fled — my  doubts  all  slain — 

My  hour  of  triumph  come — 
Oh  friend  of  my  mortal  years  ! 

The  trusted  and  the  tried ; 
Thou  art  walking  still  in  the  valley  of  tears, 

But  I  am  at  thy  side. 

Do  I  forget  ?     Oh  no  ! 

For  Memory's  golden  chain 
Shall  bind  my  heart  to  the  heart  below, 

Till  they  meet  and  touch  again ; 
Each  link  is  strong  and  bright, 

And  love's  electric  flame 
Flows  freely  down,  like  a  river  of  light, 

To  the  world  from  which  I  came. 

Do  you  mourn  when  another  star 
Shines  out  from  the  glittering  sky  ? 

Do  you  weep  when  the  noise  of  war 
And  the  rage  of  conflict  die  ? 

Then  why  should  your  tears  roll  down, 
And  your  heart  be  sorely  riven, 

For  another  gem  in  the  Saviour's  crown, 

And  another  soul  in  heaven  ? 

Anon. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  169 


THE  GUIDING  HAND. 

"Is  this  the  way,  my  Father?"  "  'Tis,  my  child. 
Thou  must  pass  through  this  tangled,  dreary  wild, 
If  thou  would'st  reach  the  city  undefiled, 

Thy  peaceful  home  above. " 

"But  enemies  are  round  !"     "Yes,  child,  I  know, 
That  where  thou  least  expectest,  there's  a  foe ; 
But  victor  thou  shalt  prove  o'er  all  below, — 
Only  seek  strength  above." 

"My  Father,  it  is  dark  !"     "  Child,  take  my  hand, 
Cling  close  to  me ;  I'll  lead  thee  through  the  land; 
Trust  my  all-seeing  care ;  so  shalt  thou  stand 
'Midst  glory  bright  above." 

"  My  footsteps  seem  to  slide  !"     "Child,  only  raise 
Thine  eye  to  mine,  then  in  these  slippery  ways, 
I  will  hold  up  thy  goings ;  thou  shalt  praise 
Me  for  each  step  above." 

"0  Father,  I  am  weary  !"      "  Lean  thy  head 
Upon  my  breast.      It  was  my  love  that  spread 
Thy  rugged  path;  hope  on,  till  I  have  said, 

Rest,  rest,  for  aye.  above  !" 

Anon. 
15 


170  HEAVENLY  HYMNS 


HEAVEN. 


No  sickness  there — 
No  weary  wasting  of  the  frame  away — 
No  fearful  shrinking  from  the  midnight  air, 
No  dread  of  Summer's  bright  and  fervid  ray. 

No  hidden  grief; 
No  wild,  and  cheerless  vision  of  despair, — 
No  vain  petition  for  a  swift  relief — 
No  tearful  eyes,  no  broken  hearts  are  there  ! 

Care  has  no  home ; 
In  the  bright  realms  of  ceaseless  prayer  and  song 
Its  billows  melt  away,  and  break  in  foam 
Far  from  the  mansion  of  the  spirit  throng. 

The  storm's  black  wing 
Is  never  spread  athwart  celestial  skies, — 
Its  waitings  blend  not  with  the  voice  of  spring, 
As  some  too  tender  flow'ret  fades  and  dies. 

No  night  distills 
Its  chilling  dews  upon  the  tender  frame ; 
No  morn  is  needed  there, — the  light  which  fills 
That  land  of  glory,  from  its  Maker  came. 

No  parted  friends 
O'er  mournful  recollections  have  to  weep  ; — 
No  bed  of  death,  enduring  love  attends, 
To  watch  the  coming  of  a  pulseless  sleep. 


P01   hl;avv   iii:\i  171 

blasted  Bower — 

Or  withered  bud,  celestial  gardens  know  ; 

oorching  blait,  or  fierce  descending  shower 
Scatters  destructioD  like  a  ruthless  foe. 

No  battled  word 

•tics  the  Sacred  host  with  iV;ir  and  dread. 
The  song  of  peace,  creation's  morning  knew, 
Is  sung,  wherever  angel  minstrels  tread. 

Let  us  depart, — 
If  home  like  this  await  the  weary  soul. 
Look  up,  then,  stricken  one, — thy  wounded  heart 
Shall  bleed  no  more  at  sorrow's  stern  control. 

With  Faith  our  guide, 

White-robed,  and  innocent,  to  lead  the  way, 

Why  fear  to  plunge  in  sorrow's  rolling  tide 

And  find  the  Ocean  of  Eternal  Day  ? 

Anon. 


LIVING  AND  DYING. 


I  AM  not  afraid  of  dying — 

When  the  midnight  winds  are  sighing; 

I  could  beckon  them  to  bear  me,  bear  me  to  the  up- 
per  ski 

And  when  the  moon  has  ri-ni 
■in  her  cloudy  eastern  priBOB, 
I  could  sink  with  her  at  morning,  IMS  gain 

to  rise. 


172  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Earth,  with  charms  I  cannot  number, 
Woos  me  to  a  placid  slumber, 
Dreamless,  deep,  and  all  unbroken  'neath  the  sum- 
mer turf,  so  green, 
Roses  everywhere  are  blowing  ; — 
Will  a  better  time  for  going 
To  the  land  of  sleep  and  silence,  come,  life's  morn 
and  eve  between  ? 

I  am  not  afraid  of  dying 
In  such  holy  quiet  lying, 
There  would  come  no  weary  waking,  with  a  weight 
upon  my  breast, 
Were  the  mornings  gray  or  golden, 
By  a  sweet  enchantment  holden 
I  should  slumber,  till  the  angels  bore  me  up  to 
heavenly  rest. 

But,  0  God !  'tis  fearful  living 

When  we  know  each  hour  is  giving 
Radiance  or  shadows  to  the  soul's  eternal  years. 

All  my  heart  grows  faint  with  sorrow ; — 

Will  it  come, — the  dim  to-morrow, — 
Bringing  gladness,  or  the  burden  of  to-day's  o'er- 
hanging  fears  ? 

Mine's  a  short  and  simple  story, 
Oh  !  thou  tender  Lord  of  glory  ! 
Bear  me  gently  in  thy  bosom,  when  I'm  weary  of 
the  way. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  173 

Only  let  me  see  thee  clearer, 
Only  whisper,  "  Child,  come  nearer," — 
So  my  living  shall  be  blessed  as  my  welcome  dying 


day. 


Anon. 


THE  MEETING  PLACE. 

Where  the  faded  flower  shall  freshen — 

Freshen  never  more  to  fade ; 
"Where  the  shaded  sky  shall  brighten — 

Brighten  never  more  to  shade ; 
Where  the  sun-blaze  never  scorches  ; 

Where  the  star-beams  cease  to  chill ; 
Where  no  tempest  stirs  the  echoes 

Of  the  wood,  or  wave,  or  hill ; 
Where  the  morn  shall  wake  in  gladness, 

And  the  noon  the  joy  prolong  ; 
Where  the  day-light  dies  in  fragrance, 

'Mid  the  burst  of  holy  song ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 

Where  no  shadow  shall  bewilder, 
Where  life's  vain  parade  is  o'er; 

Where  the  sleep  of  sin  is  broken, 
And  the  dreamer  dreams  no  more : 

Where  the  bond  is  never  severed — 
Partings,  claspings,  sobs,  and  moans, 

15* 


174  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Midnight  waking,  twilight  weeping, 
Heavy  noon-tide — all  are  done  ; 

Where  the  child  has  found  its  mother, 
Where  the  mother  finds  the  child ; 

Where  dear  families  are  gathered, 
That  were  scattered  on  the  wild ; — 

Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 

'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest ! 

Where  the  hidden  wound  is  healed, 

Where  the  blighted  life  re-blooms, 
Where  the  smitten  heart  the  freshness 

Of  its  buoyant  youth  resumes ; 
Where  the  love  that  here  we  lavish 

On  the  withering  leaves  of  time 
Shall  have  fadeless  flowers  to  fix  on, 

In  an  ever  spring-bright  clime ; 
Where  we  find  the  joy  of  loving 

As  we  never  loved  before — 
Loving  on,  unchilled,  unhindered, 

Loving  once,  and  evermore  ; — 
Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 
'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest. 

Where  a  blasted  world  shall  brighten 
Underneath  a  bluer  sphere, 

And  a  softer,  gentler  sunshine, 
Shed  its  healing  splendour  here ; 

Where  earth's  barren  vales  shall  blossom 
Putting  on  her  robe  of  green, 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  175 

And  a  purer,  fairer  Eden 

Be  where  only  wastes  have  been  ; 

Where  a  King,  in  kingly  glory 
Such  as  earth  has  never  known, 

Shall  assume  the  righteous  sceptre, 
Claim,  and  wear  the  holy  crown  ; — 

Brother,  we  shall  meet  and  rest 

'Mid  the  holy  and  the  blest." 

HORATIUS   BONAR. 


OUR  BELOVED  HAVE  DEPARTED. 

Our  beloved  have  departed, 
While  we  tarry  broken-hearted, 

In  the  dreary,  empty  house ; 
They  have  ended  life's  brief  story, 
They  have  reached  the  home  of  glory 

Over  death  victorious ! 

Hush  that  sobbing,  weep  more  lightly, 
On  we  travel,  daily,  nightly, 

To  the  rest  that  they  have  found, — 
Are  we  not  upon  the  river, 
Sailing  fast,  to  meet  for  ever, 

On  more  holy,  happy  ground? 

On  we  haste,  to  home  invited, 
There  with  friends  to  be  united 


176  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

In  a  surer  bond  than  here ; 
Meeting  soon,  and  met  for  ever  ! — 
Glorious  hope,  forsake  us  never, 

For  thy  glimmering  light  is  dear. 

Ah  !  the  way  is  shining  clearer, 
As  we  journey  ever  nearer 

To  the  everlasting  home. 
Comrades,  who  await  our  landing, 
Friends,  who  round  the  throne  are  standing, 

We  salute  you,  and  we  come. 

From  the  German  of  Lange. 


FOR  WHOM  SHOULD  WE  WEEP? 

Weep  not  for  those  whose  race  is  run ; 

Their  prize  is  gained,  their  toil  is  done ; 
To  them  the  power  of  grief  is  gone, 

And  misery's  storm  has  frowned  its  last. 
They  sleep  in  Christ,  the  sleep  of  peace, 

Unflushed  by  dreams  of  earthly  sorrow, 
Till  earthly  days  and  nights  shall  cease 

Before  a  bright  and  glorious  morrow. 

But  weep  for  those  that  yet  remain, 
The  feverish  weight  of  life  sustaining, 

The  frown  of  scorn,  the  sting  of  pain, 
And  secret  anguish  uncomplaining. 


FOR   HEAVY    HEARTS.  177 

Weep  for  the  living  ;  they  who  rest 

Within  their  last  and  happiest  dwelling, 

Are  senseless  of  the  vain  bequest 

Of  tears  and  sighs  successive  swelling. 

Weep  o'er  the  cradle, — not  the  tomb; 

Lament  the  dawn,  and  not  the  ending, 
Of  that  tempestuous  day  of  gloom, 

Whose  sun  is  bright  but  when  descending. 
Weep  for  the  bands  who  still  maintain 

The  strife,  with  labour  undiminished. 
Departed  saints  !  their  death  is  gain, 

Their  spoils  are  reaped,  their  conflict  finished. 

Anon. 


"THE  REALMS  OF  THE  BLEST." 

We  speak  of  the  realms  of  the  blest, 
Of  that  country  so  bright,  and  so  fair, 
And  oft  are  its  glories  confessed, 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  ? 

We  speak  of  its  pathways  of  gold, 
Of  its  walks  decked  with  jewels  so  rare; 
Of  its  wonders  and  pleasures  untold, — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  ? 

We  speak  of  its  freedom  from  sin, 
From  sorrow,  temptation,  and  care, 
From  trials  without  and  within, 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  ? 


1T8  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

We  speak  of  its  service  of  love 
Of  the  robes  which  the  glorified  wear, 
Of  the  church  of  the  first-born  above, — 
But  what  must  it  be  to  be  there  f 

Do  thou,  Lord,  'midst  sorrow  and  woe, 
Still  for  heaven  my  spirit  prepare ; 
And  shortly,  I  also  shall  know 
And  feel  what  it  is  to  be  there  ? 


Anon. 


DAILY  WOKK. 


In  the  name  of  God  advancing, 

Sow  thy  seed  at  morning  light, 
Cheerily  the  furrows  turning, 

Labour  on,  with  all  thy  might. 
Look  not  to  the  far-off  future, 

Do  the  work  which  nearest  lies ; 
Sow  thou  must  before  thou  reapest, 

Rest  at  last  is  labour's  prize. 

Standing  still  is  dangerous  ever, 

Toil  is  meant  for  Christians  now ; 
Let  there  be,  when  evening  cometh, 

Honest  sweat  upon  thy  brow : 
And  the  Master  shall  come  smiling 

When  work  stops,  at  set  of  sun, 
Saying,  as  he  pays  thy  wages, 

"  Good  and  faithful  man,  well  done  !" 

From  the  German. 


for  heavy  iirvi;  179 


EVENING  PRAYER. 


I  come  to  Tlicc  to-night, 
In  my  lone  dosrt,  where  no  eye  can  see, 

And  dare  to  crave  an  interview  with  Thee, 
Father  of  love  and  light ! 

Softly  the  moonbeams  shine 
On  the  still  branches  of  the  shadowy  trees, 
"While  all  sweet  sounds  of  evening  on  the  breeze, 

Steal  through  the  slumbering  vine. 

Thou  gav'st  the  calm  repose 
That  rests  on  all — the  air,  the  birds,  the  flower, 
The  human  spirit  in  its  weary  hour, 

Now  at  the  bright  day's  close. 

Tis  nature's  time  for  prayer; 
The  silent  praises  of  the  glorious  sky, 
And  the  earth's  orisons,  profound  and  high, 

To  heaven  their  breathings  bear. 

With  them  my  soul  would  bend 
In  humble  reverence  at  thy  holy  throne, 
Trusting  the  merits  of  thy  Son  alone 

Thy  sceptre  to  extend. 

If  I  this  day  have  striven 
With  thy  blest  Spirit,  or  have  bowed  the  knee 
To  aught  of  earth  in  weak  idolatry, 

I  pray  to  be  forgiven. 


180  HEAVENLY    HYMNS 

If  in  my  heart  has  been 
An  unforgiving  thought,  or  word,  or  look, 
Though  deep  the  malice  which  I  scarce  could  brook, 

Wash  me  from  the  dark  sin. 

If  I  have  turned  away 
From  grief  or  suffering  which  I  might  relieve, 
Careless  the  cup  of  water  e'en  to  give, 

Forgive  me,  Lord,  I  pray. 

And  teach  me  how  to  feel 
My  sinful  wanderings  with  a  deeper  smart, 
And  more  of  mercy  and  of  grace  impart, 

My  sinfulness  to  heal. 

Father,  my  soul  would  be 
Pure  as  the  drops  of  eve's  unsullied  dew, 
And  as  the  stars,  whose  mighty  course  is  true, 

So  would  I  be  to  thee. 

Not  for  myself  alone, 
Would  I  these  blessings  of  thy  love  implore, 
But  for  each  penitent  the  wide  world  o'er, 

Whom  thou  hast  called  thine  own. 

And  for  my  heart's  best  friends, 
Whose  steadfast  kindness  o'er  my  painful  years 
Has  watched  to  soothe  afflictions,  griefs,  and  tears, 

My  warmest  prayer  ascends. 

Should  o'er  their  path  decline 
The  light  of  gladness,  or  of  hope,  or  health, 


FOR    in  \v\    in:  \;  1-1 

boa  their  and  their  joy  Mid  wealth. 

As  they  li.'tvc  Ion  mine. 

And  now,  <  I  Path(  r,  I 

1  east  with  humble  faith  on  thee, 
And  pthfl  from  each  impurity, 


:  AND  THERE. 


Wh  vt  uo  human  eye  hath  Been, 
What  no  mortal  car  hath  heard, 

What  on  thought  hath  never  been 
In  her  noblest  flights  conferred, 

This  hath  I  lod  prepared  in  st< 

Fcnr  his  people  evermore. 

shaded  pilgrim-land 

1  on  either  hand, 

1 1-  ill  lie  ; 

Then  tl  sh  shall  fall, 

Now  i  Lark'ning  all. 

•  iily  ian  .  calmly  bright, 

•.  murmuring  low, 
nd  light 

.  !ny  on  d,  lamented  1- 
Shine  amid  ti 


182  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Many  a  joyful  sight  was  given, 
Many  a  lovely  vision  here, 

Hill  and  vale,  and  starry  even, 

Friendship's  smile,  affliction's  tear, 

These  were  shadows  sent  in  love, 

Of  realities  above. 

When  upon  my  wearied  ear, 
Earth's  last  echoes  faintly  die, 

Then  shall  angel  harps  draw  near, 
All  the  chorus  of  the  sky ; 

Long-hushed  voices  blend  again 

Sweetly  in  that  welcome  strain. 

Here  were  sweet  and  varied  tones, 
Bird  and  breeze,  and  fountain's  fall : 

Yet  creation's  travail  groans 
Ever  sadly  sighed  through  all ; 

There  no  discord  jars  the  air — 

Harmony  is  perfect  there  ! 

When  this  aching  heart  shall  rest, 

All  its  busy  pulses  o'er, 
From  her  mortal  robes  undrest, 

Shall  my  spirit  upward  soar ; 
Then  shall  pure,  unmingled  joy 
All  my  thoughts  and  powers  employ. 

Here  devotion's  healing  balm 

Often  came  to  soothe  my  breast ; 

Hours  of  deep  and  holy  calm, 
Earnests  of  eternal  rest ; 


rei    HEAVY    BBABT8.  183 

But  the  bliss  was  here  unknown 
Which  shall  there  be  "all"  rny  own. 

Jerafl  reigns,  the  Life,  the  Sun, 

Of  that  wondrous  land  above  ; 
All  the  clouds  and  storms  are  gone, 

All  is  light,  and  all  is  love. 
All  the  shadows  melt  away 
In  the  blaze  of  perfect  day. 

From  the  German  of  Lange. 


CHRISTIAN  DUTY. 


To  be  the  thing  we  seem ; 
To  do  the  thing  we  deem 

Enjoined  by  duty ; 
To  walk  in  faith,  nor  dream 
Of  questioning  God's  scheme 

Of  truth  and  beauty ; 

Casting  self-love  aside  ; 
Discarding  human  pride, 

Our  hearts  to  measure : 
In  humble  hope  to  bide 
Bach  change  in  fortune's  tide 

At  God's  good  pleasure; 


184  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

To  trust,  although  deceived ; 
Tell  truth,  though  not  believed, 

Falsehood  disdaining ; 
Patient  of  ills  received, 
To  pardon  when  aggrieved, 

Passion  restraining ; 

With  love  no  wrongs  can  chill, 
To  save,  unwearied  still, 

The  weak  from  falling, — 
This  is  to  do  God's  will 
On  earth,  and  to  fulfil 

Our  heavenly  calling. 

Horace  Poetica. 


WORK  AND  REST. 


What  have  I  yet  to  do  ? 

Day  weareth  on — 
Flowers  that,  opening  new, 
Smile  through  the  morning's  dew, 

Droop  in  the  sun. 

Neath  the  sun's  scorching  glare, 

Fainting  I  stand ; 
Still  is  the  sultry  air, 
Silentness  everywhere 

Through  the  hot  land. 


FOR    HEAVY    IIKM  185 

Yet  must  I  labour  still, 

All  the  day  through — 
Striving  with  earnest  will, 
Fatience  my  place  to  fill, 

My  work  to  do. 

Long  though  my  task  may  be, 

Cometh  the  end. 
God  'tis  that  helpeth  me, 
This  is  the  work,  and  He 

New  strength  will  lend. 

He  will  direct  my  feet, 

Strengthen  my  hand ; 
Give  me  my  portion  meet ; 
Firm  in  his  promise  sweet, 

Trusting  I'll  stand. 

Up,  then,  to  work  again  ! 

God's  word  is  given, 
That  none  shall  sow  in  vain, 
But  find  his  ripened  grain 

Garnered  in  heaven. 

Larger  the  shadows  fall, 

Night  cometh  on  ; 
Low  voices  softly  call, 
"Come,  here  is  rest  for  all ! 
Labour  is  done  !" 


Anon. 


16 


186  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


LOSING  AND  LIVING. 


For  ever  the  sun  is  pouring  his  gold 

On  a  hundred  worlds  that  beg  and  borrow ; 
His  warmth  he  squanders  on  summits  cold, 

His  wealth  on  the  homes  of  want  and  sorrow. 
To  withhold  his  largess  of  precious  light, 
Is  to  bury  himself  in  eternal  night : 
To  give 
Is  to  live. 

The  flower  shines  not  for  itself  at  all, 
Its  joy  is  the  joy  it  freely  diffuses ; 
Of  beauty  and  balm  it  is  prodigal, 

And  it  lives  in  the  life  it  sweetly  loses. 
No  choice  for  the  rose  but  glory  or  doom — 
To  exhale  or  smother,  to  wither  or  bloom : 
To  deny 
Is  to  die. 

The  seas  lend  silvery  rain  to  the  land, 

The  land  its  sapphire  streams  to  the  ocean; 
The  heart  sends  blood  to  the  brain  of  command, 

The  brain  to  the  heart  its  lightning  motion : 
And  ever  and  ever  ye  yield  our  breath — 
Till  the  mirror  is  dry,  and  images  death  : 
To  live 
Is  to  give. 


FOR   HEAVY   HBARTB.  187 

Bi  i-  iaad,  whoM  hand  ii  not  opeaad  widi 
the  oaed  of  ■  daman  brat! 

Who  £i .  place  to  an«»t:. 

million  1 

I 
v  gold  t 

fort ;  all  hardships  bf  I 
•ning  and  ago  shall  rap  with  plaai 

I  roses  shall  C  .t^ain  : 

Is  I 

thi  Mast*  sill  Iom 

We  shall  fun!  it  a  hir 

i  for  over  \o** 

r  woe  shall  increase : 
They  save 
A  gram 

Anotkm 


188  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


I  LOVE  THEE. 


Oh,  how  I  fear  Thee,  living  God ! 

With  deepest,  tenderest  fears  ! 
And  worship  Thee,  with  trembling  hope, 

And  penitential  tears  ! 

Yet  I  may  love  Thee  too,  0  Lord ! 

Almighty  as  Thou  art, 
For  Thou  hast  stooped  to  ask  from  me 

The  love  of  my  poor  heart ! 

Oh  then,  this  worse  than  worthless  heart 

In  pity  deign  to  take, 
And  make  it  love  Thee  for  Thyself, 

And  for  thy  glory's  sake. 

No  earthly  father  loves  like  Thee; 

No  mother,  half  so  mild, 
Bears  and  forbears  as  Thou  hast  done, 

With  me,  thy  sinful  child  ! 

Only  to  sit  and  think  of  God, 

Oh  !  what  a  joy  it  is  ! 
To  think  the  thought,  to  breathe  the  name, 

Earth  has  no  higher  bliss  ! 

Father  of  Jesus  !  Love's  Reward  ! 

What  rapture  will  it  be, 
Prostrate  before  thy  throne  to  lie, 

And  gaze  and  gaze  on  Thee ! 

Frederick  Faber. 


WQm    UKAVY    11KA :  189 

"  TILL  HE  COME." 

"Till  lie  come" — Oh  !  let  the  words 

Linger  on  the  trembling  chords; 
Let  the  little  while  between 
In  their  golden  light  be  Been  : 
Let  us  think  how  heaven  and  home 
Lie  beyond  that — "Till  lie  come.,, 

When  the  weary  ones  we  love 
Enter  on  their  rest  above, 
Seems  the  earth  so  poor  and  vast, 
All  our  life-joy  overcast ! 
Hush,  be  every  murmur  dumb — 
It  is  only— u  Till  He  come." 

Clouds  and  conflicts  round  us  pre.--  : 
Would  we  have  one  sorrow  less  ? 
All  the  sharpness  of  the  a 
All  that  tells  the  world  is  I   38, 
Death,  and  darkness  and  the  tomb, 
Only  whisper — "  Till  lie  com 

id, 

Drink  the  wine  and  break  the  bread  ; 

reet  memorials — till  the  L 
Gall  u>  round  his  heavenly  board; 
Some  fr<»m  earth,  from  glory  some, 
-     .-red  only— -Till  He  oom< 

Bjiv.  k.  li.  BicmarariL 


190  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


THE  WISH  OF  TO-DAY. 

I  ASK  not  now  for  gold  to  gild 

With  mocking  shine  a  weary  frame ; 

The  yearning  of  the  mind  is  stilled — 
I  ask  not  now  for  fame. 

A  rose-cloud,  dimly  seen  above, 

Melting  in  heaven's  blue  depths  away- 

Oh  !  sweet,  fond  dream  of  human  love  ! 
For  thee  I  may  not  pray. 

But,  bowed  in  lowliness  of  mind, 

I  make  my  humble  wishes  known — 
I  only  ask  a  will  resigned, 

0  Father,  to  thine  own ! 

To-day,  beneath  thy  chastening  eye, 

1  crave  alone  for  peace  and  rest, 
Submissive  in  thy  hand  to  lie, 

And  feel  that  it  is  best ! 

A  marvel  seems  the  universe, 
A  miracle  our  life  and  death  ; 

A  mystery  which  I  cannot  pierce, 
Around,  above,  beneath. 

In  vain  I  task  my  aching  brain, 
In  vain  the  sage's  thought  I  scan; 

I  only  feel  how  weak  and  vain, 
How  poor  and  blind,  is  man  ! 


FOR    HEAVY    Hl-AIlTS.  191 

And  now  my  spirit  sighs  for  home, 
And  longs  for  light,  whereby  to  see  ; 

And,  like  a  weary  child,  would  come, 
0  Father,  unto  Thee  I 

Though  oft,  like  letters  traced  on  sand, 
My  weak  resolves  have  passed  away, 

In  mercy  lend  thy  helping  hand 
Unto  my  prayer  to-day  ! 

John  G.  Whittier. 


PRAYER  OF  PATIENCE. 


I  AM  old  and  blind  ! 

Men  point  at  me  as  smitten  by  God's  frown; 
Afflicted  and  deserted  of  my  kind, 

Yet  am  I  not  cast  down. 

I  am  weak,  yet  strong  ; 

I  murmur  not  that  I  no  longer  see  ; 

p,  old,  and  helpless,  I  the  more  belong 
Father  Supreme,  to  Thee  ! 

All-merciful  One  ! 

When  men  are  farthest,  then  art  thou  most 
near  j 
When  friends  pass  by  my  weakness M  to  -hun, 

Thy  chariot  I  hear. 


192  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Thy  glorious  face 

Is  leaning  toward  me,  and  its  holy  light 
Shines  in  upon  my  lonely  dwelling-place — 

And  there  is  no  more  night. 

On  my  bended  knee, 

I  recognize  Thy  purpose,  clearly  shown ; 
My  vision  Thou  hast  dimmed  that  I  may  see 

Thyself— Thyself  alone. 

I  have  nought  to  fear ; 

This  darkness  is  the  shadow  of  thy  wing ; 
Beneath  it  I  am  almost  sacred — here 

Can  come  no  evil  thing. 

Oh  !  I  seem  to  stand 

Trembling,  where  foot  of  mortal  ne'er  hath 
been, 
Wrapped  in  that  radiance  from  the  sinless  land, 

Which  eye  hath  never  seen. 

Visions  come  and  go, 

Shapes  of  resplendent  beauty  round  me  throng, 
From  angel  lips  I  seem  to  hear  the  flow 

Of  soft  and  holy  song. 

In  a  purer  clime, 

My  being  fills  with  rapture — waves  of  thought 
Roll  in  upon  my  spirit — strains  sublime 

Break  over  me  unsought. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  193 

Give  me  now  my  lyre  ! 

I  feel  the  stirrings  of  a  gift  divine  ; 
Within  my  bosom  glows  unearthly  fire, 

Lit  by  no  skill  of  mine  ! 

Elizabeth  Lloyd. 


JOY. 

Dear  little  child  !  with  thy  golden  hair, 
With  thy  rounded  cheek,  and  thy  brow  so  fair  ; 
With  thy  ringing  laugh,  and  thy  sparkling  eye, 
Of  a  brighter  hue  than  the  cloudless  sky, — 
As  thou  dancest  about  in  thy  childish  glee, 
Thou  seemest  an  emblem  of  joy  to  me. 

But  now,  as  thou  playest — upon  the  wall 
I  mark  that  thy  shadow  doth  softly  fall ; 
Quickly  thou  runnest,  yet  near  thy  side, 
Still  doth  that  darkened  outline  glide, 
It  follows  thee  closely,  from  spot  to  spot, 
And  thou  canst  not  move  where  it  com.jth  not. 

Oh  joy  !  sweet  joy  !  it  is  ever  so  ; 

There  is  ever  some  shade  on  thy  path  below  ; 

Some    thought  of  gloom,   when    our    hours    are 

brightest, 
Some    grief    that    comes    when    our    hearts    are 

lighl 


194  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Some  sadness  that  will  on  our  spirits  fall 
As  the  shadow  is  thrown  on  the  sunlit  wall ! 

Should  it  not  teach  us  to  look  away 
From  this  world  to  the  land  of  fadeless  day, 
Where  sin  and  sorrow  no  entrance  find, 
And  pleasure  leaves  no  regret  behind  ? 
Banished  for  ever  are  clouds  of  care, 
And  joy  is  without  its  shadow  there  ! 

Anon. 


GOD  KNOWS  IT  ALL. 


In  the  dim  recess  of  thy  spirit's  chamber, 

Is  there  some  hidden  grief  thou  may'st  not  tell? 

Let  not  thy  heart  forsake  thee ;  but  remember 
His  pitying  eye,  who  sees  and  knows  it  well. 

God  knows  it  all ! 

And  art  thou  tossed  on  billows  of  temptation, 
And  wouldst  do  good,  but  evil  oft  prevails  ? 

Oh  think  amid  the  waves  of  tribulation, 

When  earthly  hope,  when  earthly  refuge  fails — 

God  knows  it  all ! 

And  dost  thou  sin  ?  thy  deed  of  shame  concealing, 
In  some  dark  spot  no  human  eye  can  see  ! 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  195 

Then  walk  in  pride,  without  one  sigh  revealing 
The  deep  remorse  that  should  disquiet  thee  ? 

God  knows  it  all ! 

Art  thou  oppressed  and  poor  and  heavy-hearted, 

The  heaven  above  thee  in  thick  clouds  arrayed ; 
And  well  nigh  crushed — no  earthly  strength  im- 
parted, 
No  friendly  voice  to  say — "Be  not  afraid  ?" 

God  knows  it  all ! 

Art  thou  a  mourner  ?  are  thy  tear-drops  flowing 
For  one  too  early  lost  to  earth  and  thee  ? 

The  depths  of  grief  no  human  spirit  knowing ; 
Which  moan  in  secret,  like  the  moaning  sea — 

God  knows  it  all ! 

Dost  thou  look  back  upon  a  life  of  sinning  ? 

Forward,  and  tremble  for  thy  future  lot  ? 
There's  One  who  sees  the  end  from  the  beginning, 

Thy  tear  of  penitence  is  unforgot. 

God  knows  it  all ! 

Then  go  to  God !     Pour  out  your  hearts  before 
^Him! 
There  is  no  grief  your  Father  cannot  feel. 
And  let  your  grateful  songs  of  praise  adore  Him — 
To  save,  forgive,  and  every  wound  to  heal. 

God  knows  it  all — God  knows  it  all ! 

Puritan  Recorder* 


196  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 


MY  CROSS. 

11  For  ray  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  saith  the  Lord." 
— Isa.  lv.  8. 

"  For  I  know  the  thoughts  that  I  think  towards  you  — 
thoughts  of  peace  and  not  of  evil,  to  give  you  an  expected 
end." — Jer.  xxix.  11. 

And  when  that  happy  time  shall  come  of  peace  and  rest, 

We  shall  look  back  upon  our  path,  and  say — It  was  the  best. 

It  was  a  time  of  sadness — and  my  heart, 
Although  it  knew  and  loved  the  better  part, 
Felt  wearied  with  the  conflict  and  the  strife, 
And  all  the  needful  discipline  of  life. 

And  while  I  thought  on  these — as  given  to  me, 
My  trial  tests  of  faith  and  love  to  be, 
It  seemed  as  if  I  never  could  be  sure 
That  faithful  to  the  end  I  should  endure. 

And  thus,  no  longer  trusting  to  His  might, 
Who  says,  "We  walk  by  faith,  and  not  by  sight;" 
Doubting,  and  almost  yielding  to  despair, 
The  thought  arose — My  cross  I  cannot  bear. 

Far  heavier  its  weight  must  surely  be, 
Than  those  of  others  which  I  daily  see ; 
Oh,  if  I  might  another  burden  choose, 
Methinks  I  should  not  fear  my  crown  to  lose. 

A  solemn  silence  reigned  on  all  around, 
E'en  nature's  voices  uttered  not  a  sound; 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  197 

The  evening  shadows  seemed  of  peace  to  tell, 
And  sleep  upon  my  weary  spirit  fell. 

A  moment's  pause — and  then  a  heavenly  light 
Beamed  full  upon  my  wondering  sight, 
Angels  on  silvery  wings  seemed  everywhere, 
And  angel's  music  thrilled  the  balmy  air. 

Then  One,  more  fair  than  all  the  rest  to  see, 
One — to  whom  all  others  bowed  the  knee — 
Came  gently  to  me,  as  I  trembling  lay, 
And, — "  Follow  me,"  he  said;   "I  am  the  way." 

Then  speaking  thus,  he  led  me  far  above, 
And  there  beneath  a  canopy  of  love, 
Crosses  of  divers  shape  and  size  were  seen, 
Larger  and  smaller  than  mine  own  had  been. 

And  one  there  was,  most  beauteous  to  behold, 
A  little  one,  with  jewels  set  in  gold — 
Ah !  this,  methinks,  I  can  with  comfort  wear, 
For  it  will  be  an  easy  one  to  bear. 

And  so  the  little  cross  I  quickly  took, 
But  all  at  once  my  frame  beneath  it  shook ; 
The  sparkling  jewels,  fair  they  were  to  see, 
But  far  too  heavy  was  their  weight  for  me. 

"  This  may  not  be,"  I  cried,  and  looked  again 
To  see  if  there  were  any  here  could  ease  my  pain, 
But  one  by  one  I  passed  them  slowly  by, 
Till  on  a  lovely  one  I  cast  my  eye. 

17  * 


198  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Fair  flowers  around  its  sculptured  form  entwined, 
And  grace  and  beauty  seemed  in  it  combined  ; 
Wondering  I  gazed — and  still  I  wondered  more 
To  think  so  many  should  have  passed  it  o'er. 

But  oh  !  that  form,  so  beautiful  to  see, 
Soon  made  its  hidden  sorrows  known  to  me ; 
Thorns  lay  beneath  those  flowers  and  colours  fair, 
Sorrowing,  I  said,  "  This  cross  I  may  not  bear." 

And  so  it  was  with  each  and  all  around, 

Not  one  to  suit  my  need  could  there  be  found, 

Weeping,  I  laid  each  heavy  burden  down, 

As  my  Guide  gently  said,  "No  cross, — no  crown." 

At  length  to  Him  I  raised  my  saddened  heart ; 
He  knew  its  sorrow,  bade  its  doubts  depart — 
"Be  not  afraid,"  he  said,  "but  trust  in  me, 
My  perfect  love  shall  now  be  shown  to  thee." 

And  then  with  lightened  eyes  and  willing  feet, 
Again  I  turned,  my  earthly  cross  to  meet, 
With  forward  footsteps,  turning  not  aside, 
For  fear  some  hidden  evil  might  betide. 

And  there,  in  the  prepared  appointed  way, 
Listening  to  hear,  and  ready  to  obey, 
A  cross  I  quickly  found,  of  plainest  form, 
With  only  words  of  love  inscribed  thereon. 

With  thankfulness  I  raised  it  from  the  rest, 
And  joyfully  acknowledged  it  the  best — 


FOR   HEAVY   HEARTS.  199 

The  only  one  of  all  the  many  there, 
That  I  could  feel  was  good  for  me  to  bear. 

And  while  I  thus  my  chosen  one  confessed, 
I  saw  a  heavenly  brightness  on  it  rest ; 
And  as  I  bent — my  burden  to  sustain — 
I  recognized  my  own  old  cross  again  ! 

But  oh,  how  different  did  it  seem  to  be  ! 
Now  I  had  learned  its  preciousness  to  see  ; 
No  longer  could  I  unbelieving  say, 
"Perhaps  another  is  a  better  way." 

Ah,  no  !  henceforth  my  one  desire  shall  be, 
That  He  who  knows  me  best  should  choose  for  me, 
And  so  whate'er  his  love  sees  good  to  send, 
I'll  trust;  it's  best — because  He  knows  the  end. 

Anon. 


I  SHALL  BE  SATISFIED. 


Not  here  !  not  here  !  not  where  the  sparkling  wa- 
ters 

Fade  into  mocking  sands  as  we  draw  near ; 
Where  in  the  wilderness  each  footstep  falters — 

I  shall  be  satisfied — but  oh  !  not  here. 

Not  here  !  where  every  dream  of  bliss  deceives  us, 
Where  the  worn  spirit  never  gains  its  goal ; 


200  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Where  haunted  ever  by  the  thoughts  that  grieve  us, 
Across  us  floods  of  bitter  memory  roll. 

There  is  a  land  where  every  pulse  is  thrilling 
With  rapture  earth's  sojourners  may  not  know, 

Where  Heaven's  repose  the  weary  heart  is  stilling, 
And  peacefully  life's  time-tossed  currents  flow. 

Far  out  of  sight,  while  yet  the  flesh  enfolds  us, 
'    Lies  the  fair  country  where  our  hearts  abide, 
And  of  its  bliss  is  naught  more  wondrous  told  us, 
Than  these  few  words,  "I  shall  be  satisfied." 

Satisfied  !  satisfied  !  the  spirit's  yearning 

For  sweet  companionship  with  kindred  minds, 

The  silent  love  that  here  meets  no  returning — 
The  inspiration  which  no  language  finds. 

Shall  they  be  satisfied  ?  the  soul's  vague  longings — 
The  aching  void  which  nothing  earthly  fills  ? — 

Oh !  what  desires  upon  my  soul  are  thronging, 
As  I  look  upward  to  the  heavenly  hills  ! 

Thither  my  weak  and  weary  steps  are  tending — 
Saviour  and  Lord  !  with  thy  frail  child  abide  ! 

Guide  me  towards  home,  where  all  my  wanderings 
ending, 
I  then  shall  see  Thee,  and  "be  satisfied  I" 

Congregationalist. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS.  201 


WORDS. 


Words  are  lighter  than  the  cloud  foam 

Of  the  restless  ocean  spray  ; 
Vainer  than  the  trembling  shadow, 

That  the  next  hour  steals  away. 
By  the  fall  of  summer  rain-drops 

la  the  air  as  deeply  stirred ; 
And  the  rose-leaf  that  we  tread  on 

Will  outlive  a  word. 

Yet  on  the  dull  silence  breaking, 

With  a  lightning  flash,  a  word, 
Bearing  endless  desolation 

On  its  slighting  wings,  I  heard. 
Earth  can  forge  no  keener  weapon, 

Dealing  surer  death  and  pain, 
And  the  cruel  echo  answered, 

Through  long  years  again. 

I  have  known  one  word  hang  star-like 

O'er  a  dreary  waste  of  years, 
And  it  only  shone  the  brighter 

Looked  at  through  a  mist  of  tears, 
While  a  weary  wanderer  gathered 

Hope  and  heart  on  life's  dark  way, 
By  its  faithful  promise  shining, 

Clearer  day  by  day. 


202  HEAVENLY   HYxMNS 

I  have  known  a  spirit  calmer 

Than  the  calmest  lake,  and  clear 
As  the  heavens  that  gazed  upon  it, 

With  no  wave  of  hope  or  fear. 
But  a  storm  had  swept  across  it, 

And  its  deepest  depths  were  stirred, 
Never,  never  more  to  slumber, 

Only  by  a  word. 

I  have  known  a  word  more  gentle 

Than  the  breath  of  summer  air, 
In  a  listening  heart  it  nestled, 

And  it  lived  for  ever  there. 
Not  the  beating  of  its  prison 

Stirred  it  ever  night  or  day ; 
Only  with  the  heart's  last  throbbing 

Could  it  fade  away. 

Words  are  mighty,  words  are  living ; 

Serpents,  with  their  venomed  stings ; 
Or  bright  angels,  crowding  round  us 

With  heaven's  light  upon  their  wings ; 
Every  word  has  its  own  spirit, 

True  or  false,  that  never  dies ; 
Every  word  man's  lips  have  uttered 

Echoes  in  God's  skies. 

Household  Words. 


FOR   HEAVY   HEM;  203 


HE  LEADS  HIS  OWN'. 

"  I  will  lead  them  in  pftthl  they  havo  not  known." — 
Isaiah  xlii.  16. 

HOW  few,  who,  from  their  youthful  day, 
Look  on  to  what  their  life  may  be, 

Painting  the  visions  of  the  way 

In  colours  soft,  and  bright,  and  free ; 

How  few,  who  to  such  paths  have  brought 

The  hopes  and  dreams  of  early  thought! 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

The  eager  hearts,  the  souls  of  fire, 
Who  pant  to  toil  for  God  and  man, 

And  view  with  eyes  of  keen  desire 
The  upland  way  of  toil  and  pain  ; 

Almost  with  scorn  they  think  of  rest, 

Of  holy  calm,  of  tranquil  breast, 

But  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

A  lowlier  task  OB  them  is  laid. 

With  love  to  make  the  labour  light ; 
And  there  their  beauty  they  must  >lied. 

On  quiet  homes,  and  lost  to  sight. 

Changed  arc  their  visions,  high  and  fair, 
Yi  I  eahn  and  still  they  labour  there; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 


204  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

The  gentle  heart,  that  thinks  with  pain, 
It  scarce  can  lowliest  tasks  fulfil, 

And,  if  it  dared  its  life  to  scan, 

Would  ask  but  pathway  low  and  still ; 

Often  such  lowly  heart  is  brought 

To  act  with  power  beyond  its  thought ; 

For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

And  they,  the  bright,  who  long  to  prove, 

In  joyous  path,  in  cloudless  lot, 
How  fresh  from  earth  their  grateful  love 

Can  spring,  without  a  stain  or  spot ; — 
Often  such  youthful  heart  is  given, 
The  path  of  grief  to  walk  to  heaven  ; 
For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

What  matter,  where  the  path  may  be  ? 

The  end  is  clear  and  bright  to  view ; 
We  know  that  we  a  strength  shall  see, 

Whate'er  the  day  may  bring  to  do, 
We  see  the  end,  the  house  of  God, 
But  not  the  path  to  that  abode ; 
For  God,  through  ways  they  have  not  known, 
Will  lead  his  own. 

Hymns  of  the  Ages. 


FOR    HEAVY   HEARTS.  20£ 


HYMN. 


TnERE  is  no  pain  that  I  can  bear, 
But  thou,  my  God,  hast  borne  it ; 

No  robe  of  scorn  that  I  can  wear, 
But  thou,  my  Lord,  hast  worn  it. 

There's  no  temptation  I  endure, 
But  thou,  my  King,  endured  it ; 

There's  not  a  wound  that  asks  a  cure, 
But  my  Redeemer  cured  it. 

For  me,  thy  sacred  temples  bled ; 
For  me,  thou  wert  upbraided ; 
"And  as  a  lamb  to  slaughter  led/' 
Unpitied  and  unaided. 

And  can  I  doubt  thy  tender  love  ? 

Thy  rich  compassion — doubt  it  ? 
My  spirit  hath  no  hope  above, 

"No  stay  on  earth  without  it." 


Anon. 


WAIT. 

Wait  !  for  the  day  is  breaking, 
Though  the  dull  night  be  long ; 

Wait !  God  is  not  forsaking 

Thy  heart*     Be  strong — be  strong! 


206  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Wait !  and  the  clouds  of  sorrow 

Shall  melt  in  gentle  showers, 
And  hues  from  heaven  shall  borrow, 

As  they  fall  amidst  the  flowers. 

Wait !  'tis  the  key  to  pleasure 

And  to  the  plan  of  God ; 
Oh,  tarry  thou  his  leisure — 

Thy  soul  shall  bear  no  load  ! 

Wait !  for  the  time  is  hasting 
When  life  shall  be  made  clear, 

And  all  who  know  heart-wasting 
Shall  feel  that  God  is  dear. 

Chauncey  Hare  Townshend. 


ENDURANCE. 


"  If  thou  faint  in  the  day  of  adversity,  thy  strength  is 
small." — Prov.  xxiv.  10. 

Faint  not  beneath  thy  burden,  tho'  it  seem 
Too  heavy  for  thee,  and  thy  strength  is  small ; 

Tho'  the  fierce  raging  of  the  noon-tide  beam 
On  thy  defenceless  head  untempered  fall. 

Tho'  sad  and  heart-sick  with  the  weight  of  woe, 
That  to  the  earth  would  crush  thee — -journey  on  ; 

What  tho'  it  be  with  faltering  steps  and  slow, 
Thou  wilt  forget  the  toil  when  rest  is  won  ! 


FOR    HEAVY    III- A  IMS.  207 

Nay,  murmur  not,  because  no  kindred  heart 
May  share  thy  burden  with  thee — but  alone 

Still  struggle  bravely  on,  tho'  all  depart; 

Is  it  not  said  that  u  each  must  bear  his  own  ?" 

All  have  not  equally  the  power  to  bless  ; 

And  of  the  many,  few  could  cheer  our  lot ; 
For  "  the  heart  knoweth  its  own  bitterness,', 

And  with  its  joy  a  stranger  meddleth  not. 

Then  be  not  faithless,  tho'  thy  heart  be  dark, 
Is  not  thy  Master's  seal  upon  thy  brow  ? 

Oft  has  his  presence  saved  thy  sinking  bark ; 
And  thinkest  thou  He  will  forsake  thee  now  ? 

Hath  he  not  bid  thee  cast  on  Him  thy  care, 
Saying,  He  careth  for  thee  ?     Then  arise  ! 

And  on  thy  path,  if  trod  in  faith  and  prayer, 
The  thorns  shall  turn  to  flowers  of  Paradise. 

Anon. 


ANGELS. 

On  never,  till  the  clouds  of  time 

Have  vanished  from  the  ken  of  man, 

And  he,  from  yonder  heaven  sublime 
Looks  back  where  mystic  life  began, 

Will  gathered  saints  in  glory  know 

What  blessings  men  to  angels  owe  ! 


208  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

This  earth  is  but  a  thorny  wild, 

A  tangled  maze  where  griefs  abound ; 

By  sorrow  vexed,  by  sin  defiled, 

Where  foes  and  friends  our  walk  surround, 

But  does  not  God  in  mercy  say, 

Angelic  guardians  line  the  way  ? 

Sickness  and  woe  perchance  may  have 
Ethereal  hosts  whom  none  perceive, 

Whose  golden  wings  around  us  wave, 
When  all  alone  men  seem  to  grieve : 

But  while  we  sigh,  or  shed  the  tear, 

Their  sympathies  may  linger  near. 

When  gracious  beams  of  holy  light 

From  heaven's  half-opened  portals  play, 

And  from  our  scene  of  suffering  night 
Melts  nigh  its  haunted  gloom  away  ; 

Each  doubt,  perchance,  some  angel  sees, 

And  hovers  o'er  our  bended  knees. 

And  when  at  length  this  weary  life 
Of  toil  and  danger  breathes  its  last, 

Or  ere  the  flesh  with  parting  strife, 
Is  down  to  clay  and  coldness  cast, 

The  struggling  soul  may  learn  the  story 

How  angels  waft  the  blest  to  glory. 

James  Montgomery. 


FOR   IIEAVY   II  i:  A  1  209 


OUR  HOURS  ARE  ANGELS. 

EACB  hour  ifl  like  an  angel,  that  with  wings, 

Comes   from,  and  goes  to  heaven ;    yet   empty 
ne'er. 

Conies  or  returns,  but  some  occasion  brings, 
And  hastens  back  to  heaven,  the  tale  to  bear 
Of  evil,  or  fresh  store  to  treasure  there. 

Wrestle,  as  with  an  angel,  with  each  hour, 

And  hold  him ;  though  he  seem  a  child  of  air, 
Yet  he  will,  in  the  struggle,  give  thee  power, 
And,  though  the  flesh   grows   weak,  will  leave  a 
heavenly  dower. 

Johx  G.  Whittier. 


THE  SLEEP. 

"  He  giveth  his  beloved  sleep." — Pialm  cxxvii. 

Of  all  the  thoughts  of  God  that  are 
Borne  inward  unto  souls  afar, 

Alonir  the  Psalmist's  music  deep — 
Now  tell  me,  if  there  any  i 
For  gift  or  grade  surpassing  tin's, 

"He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

18  * 


210  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

What  would  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
The  hero's  heart  to  be  unmoved — 

The  poet's  star-tuned  harp  to  sweep — 
The  senate's  shout  to  patriot  vows — 
The  monarch's  crown  to  light  the  brows? — 

"He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

What  do  we  give  to  our  beloved  ? 
A  little  faith,  all  undisproved, 

A  little  dust  to  overweep — 
And  bitter  memories  to  make 
The  whole  earth  blasted  for  our  sake  ! 

"He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

"Sleep  soft,  beloved  !"  wTe  sometimes  say, 
But  have  no  tune  to  charm  away 

Sad  dreams,  that  through  the  eyelids  creep ; 
But  never  doleful  dream  again 
Shall  break  the  happy  slumber  when 
"  He  giveth  His  beloved  sleep." 

0  earth,  so  full  of  dreary  noises  ! 
0  men,  with  wailing  in  your  voices  ! 

0  delved  gold,  the  wailer's  heap  ! 
0  strife,  0  curse,  that  o'er  it  fall ! 
God  makes  a  silence  through  you  all, 

And  "giveth  His  beloved  sleep  !" 

His  dew  drops  mutely  on  the  hill ; 
His  cloud  above  it  saileth  still, 

Though  on  its  slope  men  toil  and  reap ; 


•Jl  1 

:lv  than  the  d 
Or  oloud 

M  Hi-  gireth  Em  belo  p." 

•  while  t1  i 
A  living,  thin] 

raeh  ■  reel  his  heart  I 

La  say — and  throu  ord 

led  smile  i>  heard — 
u  Be  ghreth  Hi-  belo 

child  at 
hrongh  tears  the  j  leap — 

Would  ii'  •  tried  i  iai 

Would  childlike    n  //■'>■  I 
Who  "  gireth  Hi-  beloved  deep!" 

.  when  ir  >hall 
thifl  low  breath  fa 

Let  nit',  moat  loring  of  yon  all. 
Say,  i  J] — 

1  •  1  1  .  ■  _-  i  \  i  •  ' 

Mrs.  Elizabeth  Bakk 


I  01  TIIK  1  DEATH. 

To  bar; 

fort!)  «»n  an  emu 


212  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

"  Loosen  the  galling  fetters 

That  bind  the  weary  and  worn ; 
And  bear  to  their  glorious  mansions 
The  souls  that  for  bliss  are  born. 

"And  away  from  earth's  noxious  vapours, 
Some  buds  of  beauty  bring, 
To  bloom  in  the  heavenly  gardens, 
'Neath  the  smile  of  perpetual  spring.' ' 

And  the  angel,  with  wings  resplendent, 
Went  out  from  the  heavenly  band, 

'Midst  a  chorus  of  joyful  voices, 
Resounding  at  God's  right  hand. 

In  the  street  of  a  crowded  city, 
An  old  man  beggared  and  poor, 

Hungry  and  sick  and  sorrowing, 
Sank  down  by  a  rich  man's  door. 

Sleep  weighed  down  his  heavy  eye-lids, 
And  feebly  he  drew  his  breath, 

As  beside  him,  with  look  of  compassion, 
Alighted  the  angel  of  death. 

Then  he  thought  of  the  years  long  vanished, 
The  lovely,  the  lost,  and  the  dear, 

Till  borne  on  the  wings  of  sweet  vision 
He  woke  in  a  happier  sphere. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  213 

There  were  none  on  earth  to  sorrow, 
That  the  old  man's  days  were  o'er, 

But  myriads  hade  him  welcome, 
As  he  neared  the  heavenly  shore. 

Slowly  night's  gathering  shadows 

Closed  round  a  mother  mild, 
"Who,  tearful  and  heavy-hearted, 

Watched  by  her  dying  child. 

Fevered  and  restless  and  moaning, 

On  his  little  bed  he  lay, 
When  the  bright-winged  angel  drew  near  him, 

And  kissed  his  last  breath  away. 

So  softly  the  chain  was  severed — 
So  gently  was  stayed  the  breath — 

It  soothed  the  heart  of  the  mourner, 
And  she  blessed  the  angel  of  death. 

For  she  knew  the  soul  of  her  darling 

Had  gone  to  his  Father  above, 
Clasped  in  the  arms  more  tender 

Than  even  her  fondest  love. 

And  still  on  his  holy  mission 

Did  the  heaven-sent  messenger  roam, 
bhering  God's  wandering  children 
To  their  eternal  home. 


214  HEAVENLY   HYMNS 

Those  only  whose  souls  were  blighted 
And  withered  by  sin  and  shame, 

Saw  no  light  in  the  path  of  the  angel, 
And  knew  not  from  whence  he  came  ! 

And  those  only  who  close  their  spirits 

In  wilful  blindness  here, 
From  the  light  of  God's  nearer  presence 

Need  shrink  with  distrust  and  fear. 

Mrs.  S.  W.  Jewett. 


THE  MORNING-GLORY. 


We  wreathed  about  our  darling's  head  the  morning- 
glory  bright, 

Her  little  face  looked  out  beneath,  so  full  of  love 
and  light,  0 

So  lit  as  with  a  sunrise,  that  we  could  only  say, 

She  is  the  morning-glory  true,  and  her  poor  types 
are  they. 

So  always,  from  that  happy  time,  we  called  her  by 

their  name, 
And  very  fitting  did  it  seem,  for  sure  as  morning 

came, 
Behind  her  cradle-bars  she  smiled  to  catch  the  first 

faint  ray 
As  from  the  trellis  smiles  the  flower,  and  opens  to 

the  day. 


FOR    HEAVY    HEARTS.  215 

But  not  so  beautiful  they  rear  their  airy  cups  of 
blue, 

As  turned  her  sweet  eyes  to  the  light,  brimmed 
with  sleep's  tender  dew, 

And  not  so  close  their  tendrils  fine  round  their  sup- 
ports are  thrown, 

As  those  dear  arms,  whose  out-stretched  plea  clasped 
all  hearts  to  her  own. 

We  used  to  think  how  she  had  come,  even  as  comes 

the  flower, 
The  last  and  perfect  added  gift  to  crown  love's 

morning  hour, 
And  how  in  her  was  imaged  forth  the  love  we  could 

not  say, 
As  on  the  little  dew-drops  round  shines  back  the 

heart  of  day. 

"We  never  could  have  thought,  0  God,  that  she  must 
wither  up 

Almost  before  a  day  was  flown,  like  the  morning- 
glory's  cup ; 

We  never  thought  to  see  her  droop  her  fair  and  no- 
ble head, 

Till  she  lay  stretched  before  our  eyes,  wilted  and 
cold  and  dead. 

The  morning-glory's  blossoming  will  soon  be  com- 
ing round, 

We  see  their  rows  of  heart-shaped  leaves  uprising 
from  the  ground, 


